


Moon&Stars&Magic

by fishwriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bisexual James Potter, Bisexual Sirius Black, Cuddling & Snuggling, Disinherited Sirius, Employed Sirius, Getting Together, M/M, Marauders, Past James Potter/Sirius Black, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Slow Burn, Snogging, Touchy-Feely Friendship, homeschooled remus, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7353859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishwriter/pseuds/fishwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius, disinherited by his family, is working at a Muggle clothes shop to pay for the flat he's renting over the summer, and he meets Remus, home schooled, who comes in to browse. They become fast friends, though they struggle to reconcile their growing feelings for each other and the fact that neither knows the other is a wizard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Leaves and Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535114) by [irrationalmoony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalmoony/pseuds/irrationalmoony), [LadyAmina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmina/pseuds/LadyAmina). 



> This was partially inspired by “Of Leaves and Stars,” mainly the idea of Sirius and homeschooled!Remus meeting in a modern world, neither realising the other is also a wizard and struggling to hide it. This also came about because I also work in a clothes store, and thought it might be a fun idea. ("Of Leaves and Stars" is also a fantastic fic, and you should go read it.)

The first time the sandy-haired boy came in, it was early in the hot July afternoon, the store was devoid of any customers, and Sirius was aching for something to do and someone to talk to who wasn’t the cardboard cutout of a Muggle at the cash desk. “Doing alright today?” he asked exuberantly, bounding over to the front of the store, his most enthusiastic smile glowing on his aristocratic features. The boy’s answering smile was tired, an expression that seemed somehow too old for his young features, and he nodded politely. “Were you looking for anything in particular? We’re having a sale on cardigans this week.”

“I’m just browsing right now,” the boy replied amiably, his voice quiet, eyes fixed on the shop’s interior, “but thank you.”

Feeling dismissed but trying not to show his disappointment, Sirius attempted a jaunty grin. “Sure. If you need anything, just let me know.”

He went back to the table of shirts he had been folding, watching the boy wander the store, watching his gaze drift over skinny jeans and denim cut-off shorts, watching his pale fingers drag over the t-shirts and jumpers. He watched him weave in and out of the sale racks, holding up cardigans and scarves for a moment’s consideration before carefully replacing them. By the time the boy left, an hour had passed, and the shirts Sirius had been folding were in a considerably worse state than they’d been before he touched them.

“Sirius,” Claire said, her throaty voice filled with reproach as she peered over at him with a disdainful frown on her glossy pink lips, “why don’t you restock some of the jewellery instead of… whatever it is you’re trying to do.” It was clearly not a request. Huffing irritably, Sirius abandoned the lopsided pile of shirts and ran to the back to get more bracelets, the quiet boy mostly forgotten.

The next day, a little later on in the evening, Sirius was once again folding shirts, a look of intense concentration on his face as he wished fervently that he was old enough to do magic outside of school. Then again, if wizards ran the store, there wouldn’t be any real need for them to hire Sirius, which was the whole reason why he was working at a Muggle clothes shop in the first place.

The sound of the door opening and closing drew Sirius’s excited attention, and he was curious to see it was the same sandy-haired boy. He noticed this time that the boy had a faint scar on his cheek, a thin white line running from his nose to right under his ear. “Anything I can help you with today?” Sirius prompted enthusiastically, dropping the shirt he was holding into an unceremonious blob of fabric.

“Thank you, but I’m just looking,” the boy said, with the same tired smile. Sirius also noticed the way the boy avoided his eyes, as well as his unusual tallness.

“Well, let me know if you need anything, then,” Sirius said, trying not to stare.

-

It became something of a routine. Every day in the afternoon, give or take a few hours, the boy came in, turned down Sirius’s offer of assistance (which grew less and less hopeful and more and more perfunctory by the day), and browsed for about an hour before leaving empty-handed. As the summer progressed, the shop began to get busier, and often Sirius found himself involved with another customer when the strange boy walked in. Very rarely, the boy would try something on, but he always returned it neatly to where he’d found it. Still, after a couple weeks, Sirius began to grow inexplicably irritated.

“Did he come in yesterday?” Sirius asked Claire, who rolled her eyes pointedly.

“He did,” she answered dryly, examining her nails.

“Did he buy anything?”

“Nope.”

Sirius let out a sharp huff. “Every day! He comes in, walks around, touches stuff, and leaves. Why bother if he’s never going to get anything?”

Claire eyed Sirius with a cool mixture of disinterest and annoyance. “Why are you so obsessed? At least he doesn’t leave a mess for us to clean up.”

Sirius threw his hands in the air dramatically as an answer, and then stormed off to angrily tidy perfectly folded stacks of jeans, purposefully ignoring Claire’s long sigh.

For once, lost in his own inner rantings, he didn’t hear the sound of the door, or the soft sound of footsteps behind him, until there was a soft throat-clearing sound at his side, and Sirius jumped, knocking over one of the piles. The boy stood by him, looking apologetic and uncertain. “Er, sorry to startle you,” he said, looking at the toppled jeans nervously.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sirius blurted, gracelessly condensing them into an even messier pile before giving it a reassuring pat. “How can I help you?”

“Well…” The boy looked up at Sirius, meeting his gaze for the first time, and Sirius stared mesmerised at the boy’s honey-coloured eyes. He realised after a long moment of silence that the boy had  probably asked him a question.

“Sorry, er, what was that?”

“I’m looking for a few long-sleeved shirts, and my mum told me to get some other colours, besides beige, and I’m not very good at picking colours. Would you mind helping me?” Sirius thought it really said something about the boy, that he was willing to repeat all that without the slightest hint of pique or exasperation in his tone.

“Of course,” he said brightly. “You’ve come to the right bloke; I’m brilliant with colours. First, let’s see about this red one.” He bustled the boy over to the table he’d been attempting to straighten that very first afternoon, and thankfully its most recent tidying was from a different employee: the shirts were all neatly folded and stacked by colour and size. Sirius grabbed one that was a deep crimson, a colour he was quite fond of, and held it up to the boy for the briefest of moments before dropping it and picking up a different size. “You’re way too tall for that one,” Sirius said. “This one will probably work better for you. Oh, and a nice blue. I don’t really know if you need my help at all; almost any of these colours will look good on you,” he added jokingly, pulling a couple more colours before herding the boy into a fitting room. “Let me know what you think. My name’s Sirius; just holler if you need a different size in anything.

“I’m Remus,” the boy said automatically, sounding rather overwhelmed. “Th-thanks…”

Sirius ended up having to assist other customers while Remus tried on the shirts, but by some stroke of luck he managed to be available as Remus slipped out, the shirts all perfectly folded in his arms. “How’d you like them?” Sirius asked cheerfully.

“They were very comfortable,” Remus replied. “I’m going to get these top three…” He trailed off, as Sirius had already picked up the three shirts (the crimson, navy, and jade green ones.)

“Brilliant, I’ll drop these off with Claire, and she’ll ring you up, and then I’ll put these other ones away for you.” With his free hand, he took the remaining shirts and led Remus to the cash desk, laying the three in front of her before zooming off to put the others back.

When he returned, Remus was handing Claire some Muggle money. “Thanks a lot for your help, Sirius,” he said with a shy smile, and the way his name sounded in Remus’s voice somehow brought a subtle heat to Sirius’s cheeks.

“Any time.”

As Sirius watched Remus amble out of the shop, he heard Claire make an odd noise behind him.

“So…” she said curiously, “you queer then?”

Sirius considered for a moment. “Might be, a little, yeah. What of it?”

“Might be a little disappointed,” she sighed, and Sirius let out a bark-like laugh.

-

The day after, Sirius waited patiently for Remus to return. The afternoon was a slow, rainy one, and very few people came in to shop. He strolled around the tables and racks, straightening up here and there, ignoring Claire’s piercing stare whenever he attempted to fold anything. Any time he had to go to the stock room, he hurried, wanting to be near the front to greet Remus when he came in.

But the sun finally set, and Claire began to close up shop. Sirius stared mournfully out the shop windows, watching the nearly full moon glow in the sky, wondering at the feeling of disappointment settling in his chest.

-

A full week passed before Remus appeared in the shop again, looking pale and drawn, dark smudges beneath his eyes, with skin almost translucent. His normal greeting stuck in his throat, and instead, Sirius asked, “Are you okay?”

Remus looked at him with a modicum of surprise on his tired features. “I’m fine, Sirius. Thanks. Just been a bit under the weather.” The dark-haired boy smiled, inexplicably pleased Remus had remembered his name.

“Well, glad you’re feeling up to coming by. Any shopping today? Perhaps some jeans to go with those shirts?” He drank in the sight of Remus’s amused smile and the way his wavy hair swept side to side when he shook his head.

“Just coming in to browse,” he said softly, and Sirius shrugged.

“Alright then. You know where to find me.”

-

They made small talk almost every time Remus came in, and once in a while, Sirius would persuade Remus to try on a new cardigan or pair of trousers. Even when helping other customers, he would try to make time to at least say hello and see how Remus was doing. He also would casually mention his days off during their little discourses, so that Remus wouldn’t be surprised to come in and not find Sirius. 

Claire seemed both amused and exasperated by Sirius’s new crush. “Why don't you just ask him to coffee and be done with it?” she demanded one day, seconds after Remus had disappeared out the door. 

“What if he doesn't like coffee? What if he doesn't like me? What if he's straight?” The questions tumbled out in a swell of panic, and Claire looked rather taken aback, suddenly eyeing Sirius with some concern. 

“Asking him to coffee doesn't obligate either of you to get coffee. If he didn't like you, he probably wouldn't be coming in every day to talk to you. And if he's straight, then he's straight, and you'll be his friend and move on.”

Sirius collapsed dramatically against the counter. “What would I do without you?” he whimpered, grey eyes shining up at her. She flicked him dispassionately on the forehead.

“Be unemployed.”

-

Sirius was a mess the next day, his folding worse than even when he'd started, to the point where Claire explicitly forbade him from touching anything, instructing him to do nothing but assist customers. Luckily, there were only a few of those, and Sirius got to spend most of his time pelting Claire with anxious “what-if”s, which, to her credit, she answered with minimal sarcasm.

When Remus finally walked in, Sirius took a breath, summoned his inner Gryffindor, and strode purposefully up to him, tripping over a maxi dress he’d “tidied” earlier, knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Sirius distantly heard Claire’s snort behind Remus’s yelp of surprise, and decided that this was still perfectly fine.

“Remus,” he said, looking down at his wide amber eyes, “would you like to get a coffee with me tomorrow?”

He watched the boy’s expression carefully, seeing the shock register on his pale face. To his consternation, however, Remus began to laugh, a full-throated laugh that sent tingles down Sirius’s spine. “How you can sound so dignified...” Remus choked out with a shake of his head. He extricated himself from beneath the dark-haired boy, standing up and offering him a pale, slender hand. Pulling Sirius to his feet, Remus smiled shyly. “I don't… Well, that is…” He fidgeted a little bit, and every hesitation was like a little jab into Sirius’s chest, but he waited silently. “Sirius, I…” And as he met Sirius’s nervous gaze, something shifted behind his eyes. “I… Sure, I would love to get coffee with you tomorrow.”

All of Sirius’s breath escaped in a rush, leaving him light-headed as he beamed jubilantly at Remus, who stood frozen, almost as though he couldn’t believe the words he’d spoken. “Alright, then, er, it’s my day off, so I can meet you at the coffee shop round the block at, er, maybe 3?”

“3 is good for me,” Remus confirmed, having regained enough of his composure to grin delightedly at Sirius. “I’ll guess I’ll see you then.”

“Yes, you will,” Sirius said breathlessly, feeling like he could float away as he watched Remus leave the shop. Silence echoed in his absence, permeated only by the ambient soundtrack of soft chimes and cricket chirps. “He said yes,” he whirled around to tell Claire.

“I heard,” she monotoned, but then offered him a sly smirk. “Looks like you’ve got a date tomorrow.”

“I've got a date tomorrow!” he repeated elatedly.

-

Sirius was not normally one to be early, yet somehow he found himself at the cafe at quarter after two, not entirely sure how it had happened. Lily, of all people, had helped him pick out some suitable Muggle clothes (he didn’t think “work clothes” were appropriate as “date clothes,) as James was rather useless in that area, though he was very distressed to learn that Lily had been at Sirius’s flat. (“Sorry, Prongs, but she said she wouldn’t come if you were there…”) She’d dressed him in dark, ripped denim, black combat boots, and a royal blue tank top, and while he felt rather attractive, he also felt naked without his wand, lacking a place to hide it. He paced up and down the sidewalk a few feet, trying to calm himself down. After a few minutes, though, he realised he looked a bit mad, and so he sat down at one of the outdoor tables, grabbing the newspaper the last patron had left there.

It only took him about fifteen seconds to give up on the newspaper, as he found Muggle news so boring. The pictures didn’t even move. “How do you lot even live like this?” he asked the still photo of the prime minister on the front page.

“Live like what?”

The voice came from behind him, and Sirius nearly fell out of his chair in his haste to whip his head around. Remus smiled back at him.

“Live like, er, like, it’s so hot, and he’s wearing… all that,” Sirius said lamely, gesturing to the prime minister’s suit.

“It’s probably air conditioned there, though,” Remus pointed out, and Sirius laughed nervously, recognising the term as one the realtor had used when describing features of his flat, but not remembering what it actually was. “I thought I’d get here early," Remus continued. "Didn’t realise you’d be here even earlier.”

Sirius grasped gratefully at the change in subject. “Yeah, I don’t really know how that happened. I’m usually late wherever I go, but I think the clock in my flat is off.” 

Remus’s smile turned a little confused. “You don’t use your mobile?”

_ Merlin’s balls _ . Sirius opened and closed his mouth, thinking furiously. “I, er, don’t have one,” he said finally, an apologetic note in his voice. “Just like to, er, keep things simple… I guess.” He gave another nervous laugh. Remus grinned, which helped relieve the knot of tension that was forming in Sirius’s stomach.

“I can understand that. Let’s go order, shall we?”

Sirius nodded enthusiastically, leaping from his seat and walking with Remus into the shop, where they were met with a welcome blast of cool air. Something in his brain clicked into place, and he had to stifle the “Aha!” that bubbled up in his throat.  _ Air conditioned. _ He sighed, hoping he could muddle his way through Muggle talk having only taken one year of Muggle Studies. Remus was ordering a mocha, and Sirius watched as he handed the barista some Muggle money, a single note with a 5 on it. When it was his turn, he ordered a cup of Darjeeling before rummaging around in his wallet to find the same note to hand to the barista. Crisis safely averted, he took his change with gratitude and waited with Remus for their drinks.

“I was nervous you were going to say no when I asked you,” Sirius stated openly, shoving his change into his wallet in a crumpled wad, silently cursing the strange paper money. Remus fidgeted slightly.

“Actually, I was going to say no,” he said, but his tone was light. “I don’t usually… Well, I mostly keep to myself. But considering you pinned me down and asked, I figured you wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Sirius couldn’t help but laugh.

“I swear I’m not usually so clumsy. Normally I’m quite graceful.”

“I know.” Remus looked startled by his own words and turned a delicate shade of pink, and Sirius couldn’t contain the thrill of joy that hummed through him, saved from responding by the appearance of their drinks. They sat down at one of the tables inside the cafe, and now that Sirius was feeling a little more settled, he took a moment to appreciate the soft acoustic soundtrack playing in the background amid the low murmur of voices. “Do you often befriend the shop’s customers?” Remus asked curiously.

Sirius shook his head, carefully noting Remus’s word choice. “I actually started there only a week or two before that first time I saw you come in. It’s just a summer job; I’ll be back to, er, boarding school in September. You’re actually the first friend I’ve made outside of school.” 

The smile on Remus’s face was quickly hidden by his cup as he took a sip. “Sounds like fun, going to boarding school. My parents decided to homeschool me.” An odd expression came over his features, and Sirius resisted the urge to pry. It was probably too soon for that.

“It’s pretty fun, yeah. I’m a bit of a trouble-maker, to be perfectly honest.” His tone was nonchalant, but held a tinge of pride as well, and the grin he shot Remus was accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” Remus leaned back in his chair, expression still a little distant. “Let me guess. Parents had enough of your trouble making and made you get this summer job?”

Sirius’s jaw clenched, and Remus visibly tensed in response, as though he realised he’d said the wrong thing.  _ Breathe _ , Sirius told himself, and swallowed, attempting a careless shrug. “Almost. I sort of ran away last summer, and while I was at school I got an ow--- ah, a letter informing me I was disinherited. I was living with my best mate’s parents, but I didn’t want to be a burden on them for another summer, so I got my own place.” The grin came a little easier now. “The job is actually pretty fun. Claire is nice, too, when you get to know her. She won’t let me near the money, though. Not very good with it.”

“Not very good at folding, either, if we’re being honest,” Remus teased, and Sirius laughed.

“I may have grown up a little spoiled,” he admitted sheepishly, thinking of Kreacher. 

They talked for over an hour, with an ease that seemed to surprise both of them. They probably could’ve continued talking without a second thought, but Remus suddenly began giving off vibrating sounds. “Oh, sorry, mum’s calling,” he said, looking abashed, but Sirius just gave a small wave of encouragement to hide his confusion, sitting back to watch Remus talk into his little glass and metal slab, trying not to let his wonder at Muggle technology show on his face.

When Remus put the… thing… back into his pocket, he looked up apprehensively. “Mum wants me to head home,” he said, his tone apologetic. “I’ve had a really nice time, though. I’d ask for your number, but, considering you don’t have a mobile…”

“I’ll give you my address,” offered Sirius, and Remus readily agreed, producing a pen from his pocket to write it on a napkin. They parted cheerfully, Remus disappearing into the crowd as Sirius watched him go. Once the boy was completely out of sight, Sirius did a joyful little dance before hurrying home.

James was waiting on the couch for him, lanky body sprawled over its entirety, immersed in watching the little TV Sirius had bought on a whim. “How’d your date go with the  _ boy you never told me about until yesterday _ ?” he asked sharply, and Sirius grinned, throwing himself on top of James and resting his head on his friend’s chest.

“It was amazing,” he gushed. “Well, actually, yes, it was amazing, but he did mention the word ‘friend’ a few times, so it may not have been a real date.” James squirmed and wriggled until he found a more comfortable spot beneath Sirius’s chin and knees and hips, then let out a quiet sigh.

“Is he straight? Wait, don’t answer that question. Even straight blokes can still fall for Sirius Black. All hope is not lost.”

“Prongs, what’s a mobile?”

“Some Muggle invention.”

Sirius pressed his forehead against James’s cheek. “I know  _ that _ . But what is it?”

“Got me. Now hush, this is interesting.” Sirius let out a long-suffering sigh, settling in to watch the TV.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus met Sirius on a whim, and now can't seem to get him out of his mind.

 

Remus had taken care to unobtrusively watch Sirius since the first time he’d entered the shop. It was the sign that had first drawn him in, the old wooden sign painted a distressed black, with pale blue faded letters reading “Moon&Stars&Magic” amid a silver field of painted stars, a crescent moon tucked behind the words. The ambiance in the shop was pleasant as well, with the fixtures all looking hand-made, the decor reminiscent of the night sky. And then there was Sirius, all cheekbones and black wisps of hair falling carelessly from a messy bun. He’d decided it was probably best to just avoid looking directly at him, lest he either be unable to look away or just go blind from staring at the sun too long. He couldn’t deny, however, that it was pretty nice to expect the boy’s cheerful greeting day after day.

It was a little bit of a disappointment those few days Sirius was not at work, though he understood it was unreasonable to expect the boy to work every single day, but at that point, he was just another part of the experience (although a very attractive part,) and it was primarily the experience he was seeking out. It was incredibly freeing to wander into a little shop and be treated like he was normal, to walk around without attracting any askance looks or visible repulsion. He could just be another person.

His mum noticed that he was going out every day after his lessons, and she noticed that he seemed significantly more cheerful on his return. When she asked him where he was going and he told her a Muggle clothes shop, she’d looked at him with an implacable expression, as though recalling her last trip with Remus and his father to Diagon Alley and the mutterings that surrounded them, and she’d asked for him to pick up a few colourful shirts for himself, since a few of his old ones had been shredded.

When he’d attempted to ask Sirius for some assistance choosing colours, Remus finally worked up the courage to meet his gaze, and for a second, he was lost in his pale grey eyes. The silence had stretched between them for a long moment, before Sirius had blinked and asked Remus to repeat himself, though he hadn’t actually asked his question yet. He’d thought the boy was a little odd, but in an endearing way. His energy was certainly refreshing, especially considering that Remus was feeling rather strongly the effects of the waxing moon.

Then the full moon came, and Remus couldn’t escape that. 

After a few days of recovery, Remus sought out the little shop almost desperately, fresh wounds stinging his arms, and he noticed for the first time the gentle concern in Sirius’s tone, asking about his well-being. It was probably from that moment on that Remus started coming in more for Sirius than the shop itself.

When Sirius finally knocked him flat and asked him to coffee, Remus had his “no” ready, despite the clawing desire to spend more time with the charismatic shop assistant. However, he’d made the mistake of looking into those grey eyes, brimming with hope, and the assent was out before he could think. 

The coffee date was as perfect as Remus could’ve hoped, and when he’d gotten home, he found himself laying in his bed, staring stunned at the ceiling, clutching the napkin with Sirius’s address in his fist like a lifesaver. 

“Remus?” his mum’s voice called from downstairs. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Alright,” he called back weakly, reluctantly rolling off the bed and setting the napkin on his desk, quickly adding the address to his phone just in case.

“How was coffee?” his mum asked keenly, once they were settled down to dinner.

“Coffee?” Remus’s dad repeated dubiously.

“Remus had coffee with a friend today.”

“It was nice, Mum,” interrupted Remus, seeing his dad’s expression tighten. “His name’s Sirius, and he works at that little clothes shop in town.”

“A Muggle?” his dad asked, and Remus shrugged, a little indifferently. 

“He didn't say anything to make me think otherwise.”

There was a visible cloud of worry over the older man’s features, but he didn't say anything more, and Remus was immensely grateful. 

They filled the rest of dinner with light conversation of the news and Remus’s studies. Remus asked his dad about work, but his surly, clipped response prompted Remus to change the subject immediately. 

By the time Remus made it back to his room, he was exhausted-- not that that was something unusual, as he was often exhausted. He flopped face-first onto his bed, though not before grabbing the napkin with Sirius’s address. Rolling over, he studied Sirius’s casually elegant handwriting, the way he'd written his own name, “Sirius Black,” at the top, the numbers written in an almost classical fashion. Remus glanced at his mobile laying on the desk, both wishing he could call Sirius and feeling foolish for being so smitten. 

“You shouldn't even be friends with him,” Remus told himself softly, an undercurrent of frustration in his words. “There's no way for this to end except badly, and you'll only hurt yourself for trying.” Glancing out the window at the crescent moon casting a faint silver glow over the trees, he let a long sigh escape him before he got up to grab one of his textbooks, tossing the napkin in the bin. 

Yet somehow, he found himself entering the shop the next day, firmly attributing it to an especially trying Potions lesson with his father. Sirius’s enthusiastic greeting brightened his mood considerably. 

“Had a nice evening last night?” the dark-haired boy asked, looking impossibly interested.

“It was fine,” he replied, some amusement slipping into his tone. “I hope your evening went well?” 

“Watched a movie with Prongs. James. My best mate. So yeah, it went pretty well. Wished you could’ve come over, too.” He grinned, and Remus felt his face warm.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he said sheepishly, and Sirius’s expression went from happy to grave so fast that Remus nearly took a step back.

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Sirius said earnestly. “I gave you my address because you’re welcome any time. Even if I’m not there. Though I suppose you wouldn’t be able to get in unless you broke in… Maybe I’ll leave the doors unlocked…”

“No, please don’t leave the doors unlocked if you’re not there,” protested Remus, startled into laughter. “That’s not very safe. If I ever visit when you’re not home, I promise I won’t feel slighted by the door being locked. I’ll just come back later.”

“I suppose that’d be alright,” Sirius conceded. They proceeded to walk around the store together, chatting idly about movies, most of which Sirius had never seen, until another customer came in, and Sirius was forced to, as Claire icily put it, “do his job.”

By the time Remus left, grinning at Sirius who was waving goodbye frantically, he felt genuinely happy, an emotion that had been foreign to him for quite some time. When he got home, he promptly pulled the napkin with Sirius’s address out of the bin, brushed a few crumbs off of it, and set it back on the desk.

His mother smiled warmly at him when he got to the kitchen, and she gestured for him to come close. “It’s good to see you making friends,” she murmured sincerely. “I know your father is worried, but you just do what makes you happy. Take whatever happiness you can get, okay, dear?” She pat him on the cheek, and Remus swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat.

“Thanks, Mum,” he said quietly.

 

The day after, Remus and his father practiced Charms for most of the day, one of Remus’s best subjects. He had just learned about the Homonculous Charm a few days before, and was attempting to get the map of his town in front of him to show his father’s location. 

“It’s a very advanced spell, Remus, so it’s bound to take a while to master. A lot of wizards think the effort involved outweighs any practical benefit, so…” He trailed off, mouth agape as Remus leapt up to show him the map, a dot clearly labelled “Lyall Lupin” near the edge of it, right where their house was. The boy smiled broadly as his dad took the map from him, Apparating away with a loud crack. A few moments later, heard his mum’s shout from the kitchen, followed by the sound of dishware clattering to the floor. 

Remus came in as his dad cleaned up the mess with a swish of his wand, grimacing as the microwave gave an ominous  _ pop _ . “Sorry, Hope, just trying to surprise you,” he said weakly, not noticing Remus stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle his laughter, too focused on Hope’s murderous expression.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times,  _ no magic in the kitchen! Out! _ ” Without further warning, she chased them both out with a frying pan, and Remus somehow waited til he was in the yard to collapse in wheezing fits of laughter.

“You know the electronics go all funny around magic,” he managed to cough out, looking up to see his dad grinning.

“But it worked! You did it! Nice job, m’boy,” he said gruffly, handing Remus back the map. “With some practice, you could track everyone in town. With that many people on that small a map, it’d probably be useless, but you never know when these things might come in handy.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

By the time his lessons were over, both of them a little over-enthusiastic about Remus’s success, the sun had set, and Remus realised with a shock of disappointment that the shop had already closed. Dinner was quiet, and Remus’s mind was on that little napkin with Sirius’s address. 

“I'm gonna head out for a bit,” he told his parents when dinner was over. His dad looked sceptical, but his mom excitedly wrapped him in a hug. 

“You be careful, now. Text me so I know you're safe,” she trilled, and ushered him out the door before his dad could protest. Remus found himself in the warm night air, knowing both that it was absolutely absurd what he was about to do, and that if he didn’t do it, he would probably regret it. Travelling by broomstick would be too risky, and his little town was too rural to have much in the way of Muggle public transportation, so he headed purposefully down the road to the house of one of his tutors, where he politely asked to borrow a fireplace, and Floo’d to the nearest fireplace he could think of, a quiet little wizard-friendly pub across town, a few blocks from Sirius’s flat.

Once Remus was face-to-face with the door of the flat, however, the reckless, spontaneous adrenaline fled instantly from his body, and he found himself rather terrified. A cheery light glowed through the windows, and he could faintly hear the sound of the radio playing within.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he grabbed it automatically, seeing a text from his mum. ‘ _ U there yet?? _ ’ An involuntary smile spread over his face as he replied, ‘ _ About to knock on the door _ ’ and he took a deep breath, steeling himself.  _ If you can handle incredibly painful monthly transformations into a man-eating, self-destructive werewolf, you can handle knocking on a bloke’s door _ , he told himself sternly, and rapped on the door, three sharp knocks.

The wash of nerves that poured through him at that moment made him wish for a Time-Turner, but then the door opened, and he was greeted with Sirius’s quizzical grey eyes. 

“Remus?” His tone was surprised, and apologies sprung to Remus’s lips until Sirius’s face burst into a broad, dazzling smile. “You're here! At my flat!” He flung the door wide open. “Come in! I was a little worried about you when you didn't come in today, but I'm so happy you're here!”

“It would've been more polite to let you know ahead of time, but it was sort of on a whim,” Remus tried to explain. “Time sort of got away from me during lessons today, and I thought it might be fun to pop by…”

“You're always welcome,” Sirius beamed, ushering Remus in and closing the door behind him.

The flat was sparsely yet eccentrically decorated, warm brown hardwood floors paired with grey, driftwood-looking furniture, a black couch with a deep crimson rug, a tiny, old-fashioned looking TV, posters of motorcycles peppering the cream-coloured walls. He didn't notice Sirius nearly knock over the radio in his haste to turn it off, nor did he see the Quidditch magazine that Sirius stuffed unceremoniously in a sink cabinet. 

“Your flat is very you,” Remus said, smiling. “I love it.”

“Oh, thanks, it's mainly just odds and ends me and my mates have found,” said Sirius modestly, discreetly binning the day's Daily Prophet. “Bad luck, normally Prongs is here around this time. You could've met him, but he just went on holiday with his family for the week.”

“Prongs,” Remus repeated with amusement, and Sirius flushed. 

“Yeah, just school nicknames we came up with. It's me, Prongs, and Wormtail.”

“What's yours?”

“Padfoot. Because Prongs thinks I'm so dog-like.” He grinned, and Remus laughed suddenly. 

“Oh, I can see what he means. Padfoot. It suits you perfectly.” Sirius rolled his eyes in mock-irritation, though the grin remained on his face, and he guided Remus onto the couch. 

“Sit, sit. I was just about to make tea. I'll add some water for you. Is chamomile alright?”

“Chamomile sounds perfect,” Remus replied, settling in on the couch which was incredibly plush and comfortable. He looked at the TV to see Jurassic Park just beginning. 

“So you do lessons during the summer, too?” Sirius asked curiously. 

“Yeah. Worst part about home schooling. No summer break.” He smiled ruefully, turning away from Jurassic Park to lay his chin on the back of the couch, watching Sirius bustle about in the kitchen. 

“Do your parents teach you?”

“Well, my dad teaches me a lot, but I get tutors as well, for stuff my dad’s not as good at, and for things I need extra help with.”

“Like what?” Sirius prompted. 

“Puh… Mmm. Things like Chemistry, mainly. Very bad at Chemistry.” He was grateful Sirius’s attention was on the kettle because he knew he was reddening. It was almost too easy to talk to Sirius. He could almost imagine the fit his father would have if Remus had to tell him he'd accidentally broken the Statute of Secrecy, and could you please Obliviate my new friend. 

“Ah, Chemistry,” Sirius repeated. “Yes, I'm also very bad at, er, Chemistry. You get along with your parents alright then?”

“Yeah, they're great.” Though Remus was grateful for the change in topic, he hadn't forgotten that family wasn't the happiest subject for Sirius. “You said you lived with your friend’s parents for a while? Would that be Prongs?”

“Yeah,” said Sirius, and he visibly relaxed. “Mr. and Mrs. Potter. They are wonderful. I’d been spending holidays there a lot as it was, so last year they just made it official, said their home was my home, and I was welcome in it any time. They invited me to go with them this week, but I didn't want to miss work.” His smile was slightly embarrassed, but Remus felt a rush of affection for the Potters. He couldn't imagine the kind of family Sirius had come from, and he was grateful to these people for taking him in. 

“Must've been fun, living with your best mate.”

“Yeah. I mean, we share a room at school, so it wasn't that big of a change, but we did have a couple rows over stupid things. Nothing major.” He poured the tea and brought the two cups over to the coffee table, setting them down and flopping onto the couch next to Remus. Their arms brushed against each other, and Remus felt the contact like a shock throughout his body, his breath hitching. 

Sirius didn't seem to notice, and Remus was struck completely breathless as Sirius leaned easily against him, head resting on his shoulder, the entirety of their sides in contact, the heat of Sirius’s body suffusing through Remus’s stomach and chest and head. 

Immediately Sirius sat straight up, pulling away from Remus, and though Remus could now breathe again, he felt a little part of his heart protest. “Sorry,” Sirius said, looking mortified. “I wasn't thinking… I just--”

“It's alright, Sirius,” Remus interrupted with a shy smile. “I was just… a little startled.” Sirius still had a spooked look about him, but he grinned and grabbed his tea cup, settling back down so that just their arms and knees were touching. 

“Is this okay?” he asked. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I just like… feeling like someone's here, I guess.” And for the first time, Remus noticed the shadow of loneliness behind those enigmatic eyes, and he pressed leg against Sirius’s as he picked up his own cup of tea. 

“It's perfectly fine,” he said softly, sipping the chamomile. “It's nice feeling like someone's here with me, too.” Sirius didn't reply, but Remus could see that the anxiety had faded, and they spent the next couple hours watching Jurassic Park, sipping tea, and trading commentary on the film. 

When it was over, Remus stood up and stretched. “I should probably head back,” he said, a little rueful. “Thanks for having me over, and for the tea.”

Sirius waved his hand carelessly. “Like I said, you're welcome whenever. Thanks for coming. I was a little worried about spending the evening by myself.” His smile held a hint of sadness, and Remus was struck by the fierce desire to spend the night so Sirius wouldn't be alone, but he fought it down. 

“I'll try to give you some warning next time,” Remus said lightly, opening the door and stepping out, greeted by a warm breeze and the bronze glow of a street lamp. “Have a good night, Sirius.”

“Good night, Remus.”

And when Remus was curled up in his own bed after the quick trip home, the memory of Sirius’s warmth pressed against him stayed with him through the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this without thinking of the timeline at all, but it's looking like it's the summer before the Marauder's sixth year, so he may have run away from home a little earlier than canon, but whatevs, this is an AU. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely had a bit to drink as I wrote a few of these scenes, but as writing this fic is an exercise for me in just letting the story go where it goes without extensive planning or rewrites, everything stays. :D Enjoy!

Sirius was sprawled out over his sheets, clutching his blanket to his chest, wide awake and replaying the few hours he and Remus had spent on the couch. It would’ve been his first evening by himself, as James and Peter had been spending nights with him ever since he’d gotten the flat. Both of them were on holiday now, and Sirius had been in a bit of a blue mood all day, made slightly worse when Remus hadn’t shown up at the shop. He’d never dreamed that the boy would appear on his doorstep, filling a void Sirius had been dreading facing for a few quiet, peaceful hours. Even now that he was on his own, tucked into bed, the ghost of Remus’s presence occupied his mind, keeping him from that clawing loneliness infringing on the outskirts of his heart.

Cuddling up had been an almost involuntary reaction to having someone on the couch with him, something he did without thinking, and in the moment he’d been rather horrified at the sudden realization that Remus was absolutely not James nor Peter, both of whom were used to Sirius’s penchant for close contact. He’d expected, had Remus not been so stunned, for the boy to recoil, for that familiar look of disgust to flood his eyes, for him to leave Sirius with his emptiness.

But he hadn’t. Instead of leaving, he’d sought out his own contact, albeit rather less than Sirius was used to, but he hadn’t acted weirded out at all, hadn’t mocked him, hadn’t made him feel as though he were any less, and Sirius knew in that moment that, even if they never became anything else, he would be Remus’s friend forever.

He fell asleep with the warm, somehow familiar scent of Remus drifting through his memory. 

 

When Remus came into the shop the next day, Sirius, oddly, felt a little shy. “Doing alright today?” he asked sweetly as he ambled to the front. An answering shyness shone from Remus’s eyes, lighting his smile with a gentle warmth. 

“I'm good, how're you?”

“Good.” Sirius drank in the sight of him, like he was seeing him for the first time, taking in the pale scars on his face, the ones just barely visible on his neck poking out from beneath his collar. There was a soft pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks, by the way. For coming over last night.”

“Oh.” The pink grew more vivid. “Well, I'm just glad I wasn't intruding.”

“You're never intruding. It's impossible for you to intrude.”

Remus’s laugh was like starlight, and Sirius didn't even care that it didn't make sense. “If you say so,” he said, amusement colouring his soft voice. 

“If… If you like, if it's not too out of your way, you're also welcome to stop by tonight,” Sirius offered, placing a carefully casual tone into his words. “Just, if you wanted, and weren't busy.” 

Remus smiled, and Sirius felt his stomach flip over. “My father probably won't want me out as late as last night, but I can most likely stop by a little earlier. When do you get off work?”

“Today, six,” he said, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. “Usually get home around quarter after. Should I make dinner?”

“Dinner sounds lovely. I’ll let my parents know. If I’m coming over, I should get back now, get a little studying in so my dad doesn’t complain.” Sirius wasn’t sure if he was imagining the undercurrent of eagerness in Remus’s voice or not, so he just assumed it was really there, and he felt an ecstatic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Any dietary restrictions I should know about?” he asked. “Vegetarian? Allergic to soy? Lactose intolerant?” 

Remus shook his head. “Nope, I’ll eat anything.”

“Perfect. See you tonight, then.”

“Bye, Sirius.” With a cheerful wave, Remus was out the door, swallowed by the sunlight.

“Have you kissed yet?” Claire called from the cash desk. Sirius turned, affronted.

“We are just friends,” he stated firmly. “And I don’t kiss on the first date. Well, actually, that’s a lie. But I don’t always kiss on the first date. This time, I didn’t kiss on the first date. No, we haven’t kissed yet.” And he collapsed against the cash desk in a depressed lump. “I don’t want to scare him off by moving too fast. I don’t want to scare him off by moving  _ at all _ .” He swept his hands through his hair in a gesture that always helped ground him a little bit, channelling his inner James Potter. 

Claire was examining her nails. “I’m not your therapist, Sirius. Only trying to get the juicy details.” 

Sirius expressed his exasperation with a loud groan.

 

Despite Claire’s playful heckling throughout his shift, Sirius’s sense of gleeful anticipation grew as the minutes passed by. When six rolled around, he shouted a hasty goodbye to Claire as he sped out the door. He raced home, pausing only to grab a few things from the grocer’s. With an armful of food, he burst into his flat, closing the door purposefully without locking it, and set to cooking with haste.

He heard the door open a bit later, trying not to let the fluttering in his chest distract him as he held a lit match to the liquid in his dish, the chicken erupting in a dramatic burst of flame as Sirius gently shook it back and forth until the fire subsided.

“I would’ve been worried if you hadn’t looked so confident.” Remus’s voice was much closer than Sirius expected, and instead of picking up the bottle of wine on the counter, he knocked it over in surprise, grinning sheepishly as Remus caught it before it hit the floor.

“It always irritated my mother when I'd cook. She considered it a skill for the ‘lesser,’ whatever that means. So, of course, I got to be fairly good at it.” He took the wine from Remus’s hands, pulling the cork out with his teeth and splashing a copious amount into the pan. “I've got an affinity for French cooking,” he noted, adding and pouring and stirring with the sharp yet easy focus he employed making Potions. While Lily was most certainly the best Gryffindor in their year at Potions, Sirius wasn't to be underestimated either, and some of that natural skill he found translated well to food and baked goods.

Remus took a seat at the square little kitchen table, looking rather impressed. “I'm a disaster in the kitchen,” he remarked honestly. “My mum does most of the cooking. She tried to teach me, but after burnt and tasteless dinners for an entire week, I think she gave up.” Sirius sniggered unabashedly, switching over to a pan of what looked like sautéeing mushrooms.  

“Don't worry, Remus. I cook well enough for the both of us.” He flushed in pleasure as Remus laughed, the sound curling comfortably through his stomach and chest, and he was grateful for the heat from the stove masking his blush.

It took about forty minutes for Sirius to finish up his culinary masterpiece, filled with easy conversation and unrestrained laughter. Sirius fell into the experience with a comfort born of familiarity, evenings spent cooking, joking, singing with the Potters, and Remus fit in like a puzzle piece, perfectly at home, setting Sirius perfectly at ease.

As they sat down at the table to eat, Sirius’s gaze focused intently on Remus, watching him put the fork to his mouth, taking in the way his eyes widened, hearing his barely-audible hum of pleasure, before a satisfied grin tugged at the corners of his lips and he began to eat. 

“Sirius, I can't believe you cooked this,” Remus said earnestly. “Who taught you?”

“I taught myself, to start out. The, er, the cooks at school taught me a few things, too. And the Potters. Just been picking up recipes here and there.”

Remus shook his head in disbelief. “My mum would love you.” 

The thought of meeting Remus’s parents suddenly flooded his mental landscape, and his thoughts exploded in all different directions. Clearing his throat, Sirius managed to reply, “I would love her back.”

They finished the meal in comfortable silence, peppered with casual bits of conversation, and Remus immediately offered to help with the cleanup. 

“Oh, er, okay,” said Sirius, taken aback.

“Do you have a dishwasher?”

Sirius, meticulously composing his expression so as not to betray the utter confusion he felt at the question, pointed slowly to himself, and blinked uncertainly when Remus laughed. 

“Okay. No dishwasher.” He stood up, taking the plates and silverware from the table, and strode over to the sink, cheerfully turning it on and starting to wash. 

Sirius hurried over, grabbing a dish cloth and drying the dishes that Remus placed into the drying rack. The two of them working together made the process go by so much quicker that, for once, Sirius didn't quite mind not being able to clean up with magic. In fact, it was its own kind of magic, standing side-by-side with Remus, doing this sort of mundane Muggle task. 

“Remus. You're the best,” said Sirius when they were done, and grinned as Remus flushed and looked at the floor. “Really, though. I'm really happy we're friends.” The smile that Remus fixed on him was like the sun, and Sirius took a moment to bask in its glow before grabbing Remus’s hands and pulling him over to the couch. “Are you comfortable with post-dinner cuddles? Because they will happen unless you tell me no.”

With a muffled thud, Remus plopped himself on the couch and wordlessly opened his arms, an invitation that sent joy spreading through Sirius’s very soul. He flipped the telly on, not particularly caring what was on at the moment, then curled up against Remus’s chest, breathing in his warm, sweet scent, listening to his steady heartbeat. He closed his eyes as gentle fingers worked their way into his hair, pulling it from its normal bun, black strands tumbling haphazardly over his face, his neck, his shoulders, and he grinned into Remus’s collarbone as the boy combed through the sporadic tangles, each gentle tug like a spark of pleasure. Sirius hummed his contentment, stretching out his lithe body as he wrapped one arm around Remus’s ribs, keeping the other hand resting on his shoulder, where Sirius noticed another scar. Unthinkingly, he shifted his weight and traced it with his finger, then froze in panic as Remus stiffened, his heartbeat quickening. 

“Sorry,” whispered Sirius, nervously withdrawing his hand back to his own chest. Remus let out his breath in a rush of air.

“No, it’s fine. Startled me, is all.” His hand dropped from Sirius’s hair to his back, and his expression was troubled. Sirius wiggled around til he was supporting himself on his arms, palms pressing onto the couch on either side of Remus’s shoulders.

“Remus,” he said cautiously, “I know that we haven’t known each other for very long, but you’re my friend. You can talk to me about more than just superficial things.” His eyes travelled over the boy’s face, searching Remus’s suddenly impassive expression, trying to understand the storm behind those honey-coloured eyes. A long silence stretched between them, and Sirius felt his heart contract in growing fear.

Remus sighed, closing his eyes and pressing his hands to his forehead. When his eyes opened, he met Sirius’s gaze steadily, a tired smile hovering at the corners of his lips. “I know, Sirius. There are just some things I can’t tell you. They’re… Let’s just say they’re not my secrets to tell.”

The thoughts that suddenly crashed in on Sirius were almost overwhelming, thoughts of his own secrets. “I understand,” he murmured, moving to sit up, but a hand grabbed his arm, and he turned to see distress in Remus’s eyes. Pausing, somewhat consternated, he cocked his head to the side in mild confusion before he realised. Unable to suppress a small smile, he laid back down, legs tangled up with Remus’s, head resting comfortably on his chest. Maybe someday they’d share their secrets, but for now, it was enough that they acknowledged them.

“Sirius,” Remus said quietly.

“Mmm?”

“I’ll be out of town this weekend. With my family. Three or four days. We’re leaving on Friday.” A wave of dread crashed over Sirius. “I didn’t want to just disappear without telling you anything.” Sirius didn’t say anything, thinking of how the days would line up. Peter would be back by Friday, though he preferred for Sirius to stay on his own side of the couch. James would be back Monday.

“Would you be able to take a day with me on Thursday?” Sirius finally asked, a tinge of guilt creeping over him as he glimpsed the naked anxiety on Remus’s face presumably caused by his silence. “I have the day off. We could go get a meal, or see a movie, or walk around the park…” He trailed off, nervously eyeing the deliberation taking place on Remus’s face.

“I’d love to, Sirius, but… Well, my parents might want me to stay home and, er, pack. I’ll talk to them about it.” Sirius tried not to show how disappointed he was, the feeling doubled when Remus gently eased Sirius off of him. “I should probably get going. But I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

The atmosphere was heavy as Sirius walked him to the door, but they both managed genuine smiles as they exchanged goodbyes.

 

Remus swept past his mum with a muttered hello when he got home, heading straight to his room to both commit every last detail of Sirius’s body against him to memory and agonise over the tension that had plumed like smoke between them. He spared a half glance out the window to glare at the gibbous moon before he belly-flopped onto his bed, immediately regretting this decision as a deep ache spiked through his joints, and he swallowed a grunt of pain.

“Remus?” Hope peeked her head through the door. “Everything alright?”

“Sirius wants a date on Thursday,” he intoned, his words muffled by the pillow. “Two days before the moon. I’ll be an absolute wreck.” He rolled over and sat up. “And today, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It feels deceitful, being his friend without telling him what he’s getting into, that he’s been spending his time with-- with a monster.”

She had him wrapped in her arms before he could take another breath. “Remus, dear, you’re  _ not _ a monster. The werewolf is not you. I’m sure even if you could tell him about it without breaking any wizard laws, he would still want to spend his time with you.”

A long sigh escaped him. “I’d like to think so, but…”

“Why don’t you invite him here on Thursday?” Hope suggested mildly. “That way you won’t need to exert yourself by going out anywhere, and you can still have your date, just at home.”

At that point, Remus realised with some horror that he had indeed referred to it as a date. “Please don’t say anything to Dad about it being anything other than Sirius just coming over as a friend,” he pleaded, burying his face in his hands. 

“Your father and I will both still love you no matter who you decide to date,” she reassured him.

“No, Mum, I don’t mean… It’s not that he’s another bloke. I know Dad worries about people finding out about me, is what I meant.” 

“Oh.” His mum’s face coloured slightly, and she smiled sheepishly. “Well, either way. Invite him over on Thursday, or I will.” She patted him on the cheek before sweeping out of the room.

Remus gaped at her retreating shadow. “How would you invite him?” he demanded.

“I stole his address from your desk,” she called over her shoulder. His head whipped to his desk where the napkin was conspicuously missing.

“MUM.”

“Love you, dear!”

But despite his pique, he found himself smiling, and he took a deep breath, inhaling the remnants of Sirius’s scent clinging to his body.

 

“Hey, Claire.”

“Hey, Sirius.”

“Do you live with anyone?”

For once, she was out from behind the cash desk, rearranging a scarf display. “No, I live by myself. I spend holidays with my dad, though.”

“Don’t you get lonely?”

Claire scoffed, fluffing a light, flower-patterned kerchief. “If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t really enjoy being around most people. I much prefer living on my own.”

Sirius frowned, seated on the counter, feet dangling. “Is that unusual?” he asked.

“Maybe a little. I never really gave it much thought.” She flung an infinity scarf at him. “Sweep the floor. You’re shedding.”

He slid down, picking up the scarf as it had fallen to the ground, and dramatically tossed his hair over his shoulder, which he had decided to leave down that day. With an aristocratic (and unnecessary) level of dignity, Sirius swept into the back room to look for a broom. 

Remus, of course, chose that moment to enter the shop, both taken aback and disappointed by the slightly bored female voice that greeted him. Sirius hadn’t mentioned having the day off. Perhaps he’d called in?

Claire looked up with distinct irritation when she got no response, but then sighed when she saw who it was. “Your boyfriend’s in the back. Should be out in a mo.”

So when Sirius did return, Remus’s face was, of course, bright red. “Remus?” Sirius called, scurrying over to get a closer look. “You feeling alright?” He rested the broom against a nearby shelf and reached out unthinkingly. The red deepened, and Sirius promptly dropped his hand, eyes immediately flickering over to Claire and back. 

Remus seemed to be having some trouble formulating words, and it took him a moment to finally say, “My mum wanted me to invite you over Thursday.” 

Now it was Sirius’s turn to gape. “Your… Your mum? Your house?” He looked over at Claire, stunned, searching for some sort of reassurance that this was real life, but she just looked flatly back at him for a second before returning to her scarves. His gaze flickered back to the visibly anxious Remus, and he took the boy’s hands. “Remus. I would love to come over Thursday. What time should I arrive?”

He bit his lip in a way that Sirius found extremely distracting. “Would 3 be alright?”

Sirius had to shake his head a little to clear it. “3 is perfect.” And he offered Remus a blinding smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm broadening my POV for this chapter to be a little more 3rd person omniscient and a little less 3rd person limited because I just feel like there's so much going on that I want to portray. Hoping it works out. :D

Sirius arrived at Remus’s house at half til three, eyes shining in excitement. His hair was pulled into a casual ponytail, and he was dressed in a simple black t-shirt with pale acid washed skinny jeans and white trainers. He was also soaked to the bone because it was pouring rain, and the idea of umbrellas was a foreign one to Sirius. Instinctively he reached for the doorknob before abruptly remembering that most people kept their doors locked. “Alright, Sirius,” he told himself sternly, “pull it together.” And with a quick, steadying breath, he knocked smartly on the door. 

There was the sound of bustling about inside, and it took around thirty seconds for the door to open, though to Sirius it felt like ages. Hope was the one to answer the door, amber eyes glittering, a bright smile on her face. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled up in a simple bun, and she wore a very flattering floral print dress. Almost instantly, however, the smile vanished with a gasp. “Sirius! Get out of the rain this instant!” she demanded, and pulled him bodily inside the house, shutting the door behind him and accosting him with a pleasantly fluffy towel. 

Instead of the polite greeting he'd been practicing, all Sirius managed was a muffled “Argh!” Hope sighed, releasing him with a critical look, and folded up the towel in her arms. 

“You're soaking wet,” she said, her tone a mixture of concern and exasperation. “You didn't bring an umbrella? Come now, dear, up to Remus’s room. You'll have to change into something dry.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and steered him to the stairs, walking him up. “Can't have you catching a cold, now, can we? Don't worry, though. I made some stew for dinner. That should warm you right up. Is stew alright for you, dear?”

“That sounds lovely,” said Sirius, somewhat overwhelmed, which was something of a rare occasion for him.

“Excellent. Now here's Remus’s room. I'm sure he can find you something dry to put on. Just give me the wet clothes when you're out of them, and I'll put them in the-- Remus, dear, are you asleep?”

Indeed, Remus was sprawled on his bed, clothed and on top of the covers, fast asleep. Sirius felt his heart squeeze, and he was immediately torn between not wanting to disturb his peaceful form and wanting to speak and interact with him. The latter won out, of course, and Sirius crept over to the side of the bed, crouching so that he was nose-to-nose with him. “Oi, Remus,” he whispered loudly, placing his cold, wet hand on the sleeping boy’s cheek. 

“Nnggghhhh,” Remus protested, jerking away, eyes fluttering open. “Sirius?” His voice was muzzy with sleep. “Is it already three?”

“Sirius got here a little early,” Hope answered from the doorway, a fond softness around her eyes and in her smile. “He also seems to have swum here, so would you mind letting him borrow some clothes?”

“Mm.”

With a cheery wave, Hope vanished from the doorway, leaving Sirius and Remus alone. Remus was gingerly sitting up, rubbing his eyes, as Sirius watched him intently, gaze sweeping over his light brown hair, wavy pieces stuck up on one side, down to the dark circles under his eyes and the gaunt shadows below his cheekbones. “You feeling alright, Remus?” he asked softly, and at the sound of his voice, a little more life seemed to flow into him. 

“Sirius! Yes, I'm fine, but look at you.” Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Remus couldn't fight a small grin at the steadily-clearing sight of Sirius crouching at the side of the bed, drops of water falling steadily from his dark hair, beading on his eyelashes, his clothes plastered against his slim body. He slid off the bed, trying not to betray the magnitude of the sharp bolts of pain that lanced through him, and he pawed through his closet for a moment before pulling out a blue long-sleeved shirt and dark grey joggers. “These will probably be a little long on you,” he said apologetically, guiding Sirius over to the bathroom. “You can use the towel on the door to dry off, and I'll set these here for you.” He put the clothes on the counter and shut the door on Sirius, who gratefully stripped bare and began hurriedly towelling himself off, wishing for about the trillionth time that he could do magic outside of school. 

‘ _ Just a few more months, _ ’ he thought gloomily, squeezing water out of his ponytail with the towel. The clothes fit relatively well, though the joggers were a bit long, but he was quite comfortable in them. Lounging around without pants on underneath was not something he'd ever really done, though it felt rather freeing.

Sirius opened the door and poked his head out, holding his wet clothes over the sink. “Remus? Your mum wanted me to give her my wet things… I'm worried I didn't exactly make a good first impression.”

Remus grinned, taking the wet clothes from him. “Don't worry. She loved you before she even met you. Come on, she's probably made cookies or something.” He beckoned Sirius to follow him down the stairs, leading him into the kitchen where the delightful smell of something baked and delicious met them. 

“Do you like brownies, dear?” Hope asked cheerfully, pulling the pan out of the oven. Sirius, with wide eyes, nodded quickly. “Wonderful. Just give them a little bit to cool; last time Remus burnt his tongue so badly he was complaining for a week.”

“Mum,” Remus groaned, as Sirius laughed at the thought. 

“I'll keep him in line,” Sirius promised with a rakish grin. She giggled, taking the wet clothes from Remus and striding out of the kitchen. Sirius settled down into a chair at the kitchen table and Remus sat beside him, marvelling a little at the way Sirius not only seemed to fit in in the small house but brightened it up, casting his light onto every room he entered. 

“Did you walk?” Remus asked him, eyeing the window where he could still see it bucketing down. 

“Ah… Yes, I walked. I don't mind a bit of rain.”

“I wouldn't call this a  _ bit _ of rain…”

Sirius shrugged, tipping his chair back onto its back legs, the picture of carefree youth. “Water doesn't hurt beauty.” He offered Remus a sly wink, to which he rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. 

“No, it just gives them the flu.”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “I don't really get sick. Can't remember the last time I had a cold. Must be my good breeding.” He practically preened, and Remus laughed. 

“Or you’ve just charmed all the germs, and now they’ve decided they’d rather have you healthy than sick,” he mused. Every smile from Sirius, every time they locked eyes, Remus felt a warmth envelop him, easing the hurt out of his muscles and bones. “She hadn’t even met you yet, and my mum’s already calling you her other son.”

Unadulterated joy blossomed on Sirius’s face like springtime, and Remus felt a sense of near-reverence at the fullness of emotion that the enigmatic boy was capable of feeling, seemingly unaffected by the instinct to keep it restrained to stave off the potential hurt. He was unaware that Sirius was enormously overwhelmed at how lucky he was, having been abandoned by his family and finding two others willing to accept him without a second thought. He looked down at his knees for a moment to get a handle on the hot tears burning behind his eyes. 

“Your mum is wonderful,” he said, his voice thick. A flash of understanding came to Remus, and without thinking he slid his hand over Sirius’s (which was thankfully soft and warm, as opposed to cold and wet,) giving it a tight squeeze before letting go and getting up. 

“These should be cool enough to eat,” he said easily, grabbing a few napkins and cutting them each a decent-sized brownie. By the time he placed one in front of Sirius, he’d managed to collect himself and was jumping up and down in his seat in anticipation. 

The first bite was hot, chocolatey bliss, and Sirius moaned, the sound going through Remus like lightning. “Good?” he asked casually, focusing on the wood grain of the table until his heartbeat returned to normal.

“I think I’m going to ask your mum to marry me.”

Remus snorted. “She’s actually already married.”

“Don’t care.”

Shaking his head, Remus set to his own brownie, popping the whole thing in his mouth, the taste familiar and comforting, and the throbbing in his joints seemed to lessen. Chocolate was certainly the most underrated remedy. He stood up, motioned for Sirius to follow, and led the dark-haired boy out of the kitchen and into the living room. “We’re going to watch a movie,” he explained, falling onto the sofa and straightening the cushions. A beat later, he realised Sirius had not followed him. “Sirius?”

Sirius was staring at the television on the wall (more like gaping, if Remus was being honest) with naked awe in his expression. “It’s so big,” he breathed, eyes dancing as they followed the muted movements of the cartoon characters. Remus flushed. 

“Not really,” he said, a little taken aback. He didn’t know very much about TVs, but he knew that it was a little older, and it was rather small. Then again, he recalled the little old-fashioned telly at Sirius’s flat with some amusement. “Come sit. I rented Lilo and Stitch. I thought you’d like it.”

Obediently, Sirius sat down beside Remus, positioning himself so that the entirety of their sides were in contact. Though it was painful, somehow having Sirius so close made Remus feel better, and he started the movie smiling.

Sirius did not just like Lilo and Stitch; he adored it from the first five minutes. It was almost more entertaining to watch Sirius’s effervescent, ever-changing expressions than the actual movie. As it was, Remus was paying somewhat less attention to the movie than Sirius was, and he noticed his mum pass by, offering him a sly wink as she slipped back into the kitchen. 

There was the sound of a distant  _ crack _ about halfway through the movie, and Sirius cocked his head. “Was that thunder?” he asked, brows furrowed. Remus hastily glanced at the window where, he was glad to see, it was still raining.

“Must’ve been,” he replied with an air of nonchalance. Sirius didn’t notice his insincerity, though, as he’d returned to watching the movie.

A minute or so later, the front door opened, and a very surly Lyall walked in, dripping with rain water.

Hope hurried out of the kitchen. “Lyall, you’re getting mud everywhere,” she scolded, a note of despair in her voice as she attacked him with a towel.

“Argh!” 

Sirius had turned to see what the commotion was, and couldn’t help but giggle, wondering if he’d looked as discombobulated as Remus’s dad. 

“Hope, honey, you know I’ll just clean it up later with-- er, with the… vacuum?” The irritation on his strong face dried up as he caught sight of Sirius, suddenly noticing the dangerous glint in Hope’s eyes.

“Yes, dear, you will,” she said sternly, but then smiled, kissing him on his still slightly damp cheek. “Welcome home. Remus and Sirius are watching a movie right now. Come, into the kitchen. You can help me cook.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin,” Sirius greeted, hiding his amusement at the abashed expression on the tall man’s face.

“Pleased to meet you as well, Sirius,” he replied cordially, before Hope yanked him into the kitchen.

“Your dad’s as tall as you are,” Sirius remarked with a grin, settling back against Remus’s side, this time resting his head on his shoulder. Remus resisted the silly urge to kiss him on the forehead.

“Yup, had to get it from somewhere. You’re nearly as short as my mum.”

Sirius whipped his head back, clearly affronted, and pinned Remus with his gaze. “I am not short, thank you very much. I am of average height. Not everyone can be as unrealistically tall as you. How do you go about without bashing your head on the tops of doorways or on chandeliers?  _ Do I look like I’m joking? _ ” He glared at Remus, who was doubled over, shaking in laughter.

“I expect I watch where I’m going,” he managed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Sorry. Didn’t realise it was a sore spot for you.”

“You and Prongs,” Sirius muttered crossly, folding his arms. “This is heightism, is what it is.” He leaned back against Remus’s side, then bounced away again as if stung. Remus looked at him in conusion. “Is it alright?” Sirius asked quietly, worry in his voice. “I mean, do your parents--”

Remus pulled him back, adjusting so that Sirius was nearly in his lap. “They’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”  _ We already had the talk about me being gay, _ he added mentally, then firmly shoved away the awkward memory. Sirius seemed satisfied with his answer and snuggled closer, relaxing against Remus.

By the time the aliens had invaded Lilo’s house, Hope’s voice floated in. “Dinner’s ready, boys, come eat.” Sirius was visibly conflicted as he glanced between the kitchen and the TV. 

“We’ll pause it,” Remus reassured him, grabbing the remote and doing just that. Sirius stared at the television, stunned, as Remus got up off the couch. Muggle technology was truly amazing, he decided, following his friend into the kitchen, taking a seat next to him.

Dinner was a lovely beef stew, and the atmosphere was so comfortingly familiar that Sirius felt truly at home. They ate amidst brief conversations about how Sirius was enjoying school, living on his own, his job. Hope noticed how the two boys kept stealing glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. She also noticed the way her husband kept stealing furtive glances at Sirius, and she kneed him under the table. He shot her a look, wishing he could communicate telepathically.

Lyall wasn’t sure what it was, but something about Sirius looked familiar. He couldn’t quite place it, uncertain if they’d somehow met before. It was especially noticeable whenever a playful grin would brighten Sirius’s face.

“This stew is delicious, Mrs. Lupin,” Sirius stated blissfully. “I need the recipe.”

“Oh, Sirius, dear, call me Hope,” she said, beaming. Remus grinned at Sirius, and Lyall’s sudden affection for the two of them overwhelmed his niggling curiosity.

“So, Sirius, what do you plan on doing after you finish school?” he asked. “Going to uni? Getting a job?”

“I’d like to get a job in, er, law enforcement,” Sirius replied carefully, praying there wouldn’t be too many specific follow up questions as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to lie convincingly to a Muggle adult.

“Very fulfilling job, I hear,” Lyall said, sipping his drink.

“Lyall has a job in the government as well,” Hope added fondly. Lyall glanced quickly at her, hoping Sirius didn’t ask anything too specific about his job. He hadn’t thought to come up with a cover story.

“Oh, yeah, my dad used to work in the government as well.” Sirius consciously suppressed the involuntary bitterness that swam to the surface at the mention of his father. “He wasn’t able to make some of the changes he was hoping to, so he left.”

Lyall was nodding. “I’ve known a few to leave on principle. It’s difficult sometimes to have to carry on with things you disagree with.” His expression was troubled, green eyes dark beneath a furrowed brow. Remus quickly changed the subject as elegantly as he could manage.

“Sirius is having a lot of fun at his job at the shop, though,” he said. “Customers love him.” He shot Sirius a grin that made his stomach somersault, and he smiled modestly.

“My boss would want you to add that that’s the only reason she keeps me around,” he noted. “I’m not the best at folding, or handling the money.” Though his tone was sheepish, he wore a smirk on his face, and his eyes had a glint of mischief in them that made Remus suddenly suspect Sirius’s true ineptitude at folding clothes was perhaps questionable. 

The smirk sparked something in Lyall’s memory, however, and his eyes widened.

“Sorry to bring this back up, but what was your dad’s name?”

Sirius looked curiously at him. “I doubt you knew him,” he said apologetically. “He worked for a really, er, obscure branch. His name’s Orion Black.”

An odd expression came over Lyall’s face for the briefest of moments, and then he shrugged, going back to his stew. “I guess you’re right. Doesn’t sound familiar.”

Remus purposefully steered the rest of their dinner conversation away from Sirius’s estranged family. They spent the rest of the meal on lighter subjects, and Hope produced chocolate cake for dessert.

When Sirius returned to the sofa, he was feeling very full, and he stretched all the way out, pulling Remus on top of him, where he nestled his head beneath Sirius’s chin, slipping snugly between Sirius’s body and the back of the couch, and sighed comfortably. Remus resumed the movie, and they watched the last half hour in drowsy comfort. Sirius was having more of a difficult time concentrating than he’d anticipated with Remus’s warmth heavy against him. The hand resting on his chest would occasionally grip his shirt, fingertips pressing into him briefly before relaxing, and once, Remus moved his head slightly, his lips brushing against Sirius’s collarbone and setting his nerves tingling.

When the credits rolled, Sirius noticed with a small smile that Remus had fallen asleep on top of him. “Remus,” he whispered, running his fingers over his back. “Good morning, Remus.”

“Mmm.” Remus’s eyes fluttered open, amber depths clouded with sleep. “Morning?” he muttered, slowly trying to sit up and wincing. Sirius’s merriment faded slightly.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“‘M fine… Sirius?” He rubbed his eyes and smiled apologetically. “What time is it?”

Sirius managed a shrug. “Dunno. Seems to have stopped raining though.” Remus finally managed to get himself upright, stretching languidly. 

“Sorry I’ve been so tired… Haven’t been feeling very well.”

“Nah, don’t apologise, you’re cute when you sleep.” He grinned devilishly as Remus’s face grew hot. “I’ll head out, then. You should get some rest. You don’t wanna get sick on your trip.”

“Er, yeah, my trip,” Remus agreed with a nod. “I’m sure I’ll be alright. Thanks for coming over.” He and Sirius both stood up. “You can hang on to those clothes until I see you again.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, let me get yours from the dryer.” He ambled from the living room, Sirius watching him go. He returned a minute later with Hope following behind him, holding his now dry clothes, and she swept him into a hug.

“I’m glad you came,” she said emphatically. “You’re welcome any time, dear.”

“Thanks,” Sirius replied, smiling elatedly as she released him. “It was lovely to meet you. Thank you for dinner.”

“It was nothing,” she demurred, though she was clearly delighted.

Then Remus hugged him, an unexpected but pleasant surprise. “I’ll see you after the weekend?” he asked.

“Of course.” Sirius hugged him back tightly. “Have fun on your trip.”

Remus smiled weakly. “I’ll try.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was anticipating this being a fluff-fest of a fic, but the longer I write, the more antsy (angsty) I get, so the honeymoon period may be ending soon. Whoops.

“I missed you,” Sirius whined, squeezing the struggling boy in a vice grip. “It's been ages,  _ ages.  _ I'm surprised I'm still alive! You didn't write once!” 

“We invited you along, not my fault you said no. And how was I supposed to owl from Atlantis? Geroff, you're bending the tail twigs.” Though James sounded grumpy, he truly was pleased to see Sirius. Atlantis had been fun, but much of the potential enjoyment was lost without his partner in crime. Finally managing to wriggle free of Sirius’s chest-crushing embrace, James set his broomstick gently against the wall and threw his Invisibility Cloak on the sofa. “So nice to fly again after being underwater all that time,” he remarked. “It’s why I decided not to just floo. But tell me about your James-free week.” He sat down at the kitchen table, stretching his long legs out in front of him. In a flash, Sirius was on his lap, an arm thrown casually over his best friend’s shoulders. 

“Mostly I hung out with Remus,” he said, and James grinned at the fake casualness of his tone. 

“ _ Hung out? _ ” James repeated meaningfully, eyebrows raised. Sirius scowled with mock-severity.

“Yes,  _ hung out _ , as in he came over a few times and then I visited him Thursday before he went off on a weekend holiday. We had dinner and watched the telly, mainly. And then over the weekend Wormtail came by, but now he’s off again visiting extended family. He really packs his summers full, doesn’t he?”

“You’re changing the subject,” James said gleefully. “Did anything happen?”

The look Sirius was giving James would have been intimidating, had Sirius not been simultaneously pouting. “No. Nothing happened. I don’t think he even knows I fancy him.”

James snorted. “I find that hard to believe. You’re not exactly known for your subtlety.”

“Well, it’s either he doesn’t notice or he doesn’t fancy me back, so I’m sticking with the former,” Sirius declared, his demeanor purposefully petulant.

“Not everyone is ready to just jump into a relationship head-first, Padfoot. Just give him some time, like I’m doing with Evans.”

It was Sirius’s turn to snort. “You asked her out every weekend last year, and the closest you got to a yes was her laughing because she hexed your hair pink.”

“Further evidence that any hair colour looks good on me,” he stated with an air of dignity, to which Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Further evidence you’re a ponce.”

“Yet still universally adored.” James grinned, and Sirius couldn’t help but laugh, and then the door opened, and Remus poked his head in.

The two boys stared back at him for a brief, silent moment, in which Remus processed the situation. Perhaps he should’ve knocked, but a week of visiting Sirius had only served to show him that Sirius was possibly deaf to knocks. He tried not to think about the crushing sensation surrounding his heart, objectively taking in the sight of the boy on whom Sirius was sitting, his strong-looking arms wrapped around Sirius’s waist. His hair was dark and wild, and wide hazel eyes were scanning him from behind round, wire-rimmed glasses. He was slim but athletic, and everything from the tilt of his chin to the relaxed set of his legs out in front of him exuded a casual confidence. There had been surprise on Sirius’s handsome face at the sight of Remus, which had quickly turned to joy, and then slowly faded into uncertainty, his grey eyes now flickering between Remus and the other dark-haired boy.

James broke the tension by abruptly standing up, dumping Sirius unceremoniously to the ground with a thud and an aggrieved “Hey!” as he strode over to Remus, offering his hand to shake, which Remus took, though he looked unsure. 

“You must be Remus!” he exclaimed. “James Potter, delighted to finally meet you. Sirius has not shut up about you since he met you.”

Taken aback, face suddenly warm, Remus stuttered out, “Oh, th-thanks. Yes, Remus Lupin.” He attempted a small smile, though he was still feeling somewhat out of sorts. “It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you as well.”

Sirius had gotten back to his feet, and shuffled over to the two of them, shooting James a murderous look before smiling broadly at Remus. “I’m really excited you’re back! I didn’t expect you til tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sorry, I should’ve let you know,” Remus said apologetically. “We got back just a bit ago.”  _ As in, I just woke up and was capable of moving as of a bit ago _ , Remus clarified dryly to himself, painfully aware of the new lacerations marring his back.

“No, don’t apologise, I’m really glad you came. And you’ve met this prat now.”

“Hey!”

Remus smiled, full of genuine warmth, and both James and Sirius fell silent as the glow washed over them, taken in by the affection in Remus’s honey-coloured gaze. “Want to go on a walk? It’s a beautiful evening,” he suggested.

“We’d love to,” Sirius replied buoyantly, throwing on some shoes and practically dragging his two friends out the door.

The sun had just touched the horizon, limning the clouds with fire, deep orange flooding the sky and softening the world with a gold hue. The humidity had lifted after the rain of a few days before, leaving the air warm and fresh. Remus was trying not to stare at the two boys now accompanying him, who were magnetising in the dusky light. The sunset brought out a deep violet undertone in Sirius’s long hair, which tumbled elegantly over his shoulders, free of any hair bands, and bronzed his pale skin. James was looking up at the clouds, a twilight aura surrounding him, throwing the features of his face into sharp relief, and Remus wondered how he had gotten here to this point in his life, about to go for a stroll with two obscenely handsome boys with questionable sexual orientation. 

“James, I heard you just got back from holiday,” Remus said conversationally, determinedly not ogling either of them, leading them down a familiar road. “Where did you go?”

The boy grinned. “We cruised the Mediterranean,” he said easily. “Visited Greece and Italy. It was lovely. Do you do a lot of travelling?” Remus didn’t see Sirius roll his eyes, and shrugged.

“My family and I have moved around a lot, but just around England, for Dad’s job. I’ve seen a lot of countrysides, but not much in the way of other countries.” His mind skimmed over the the multitude of towns they’d been driven from, in one way or another, struggling to manage Remus’s condition, and he had to purposefully neutralise his expression to keep the melancholy from showing through. James cast him a sidelong glance. 

“Well, you're invited any time we go on holiday,” he said, and the smile that danced on his lips hinted at mischief as he wrapped his arm around Remus’s waist. An unintelligible noise came from Sirius, but before he could say anything, James slung his other arm over Sirius’s shoulders, and the three boys walked down the street in easy silence, as though struck by how well they fit together, as if they’d known each other for years, as if they belonged together.

Sirius kept glancing at Remus, noticing the way the tension had bled from him, how his hand rested easily on James’s shoulder, the sun lighting his eyes with a brilliant gold colour as he watched the sky. The weight of James’s arm around him was familiar and reassuring, yet the mere presence of Remus was like lightning in the air, prickling his skin, setting his nerves tingling, and Sirius felt almost breathless. He quickened his pace and slipped away from James, taking Remus by the hand and dashing out ahead. 

“Catch us if you can, Prongs,” he called over his shoulder, and Remus stumbled in surprise before laughing excitedly and running alongside Sirius. James spluttered an inarticulate protest before launching himself into a run to catch up. Though Remus had the longest legs, James was by far the most in shape, and overtook both of them before too long, cackling as he sped past Sirius, the three of them leaving the street to run into the grass. 

Remus slowed to a stop, releasing Sirius’s hand, and opened his mouth to call out a warning, but he couldn't finish his sentence in time to stop James from tumbling headfirst into the lake they'd just come to, and Remus doubled over, wheezing in both exertion and laughter as James stood up, dripping. Sirius skidded to a stop right at the edge of the lake and roared with laughter as well, scrambling backwards when James swiped at his legs. 

Within minutes, all three boys were in the lake, clothes sopping wet, raucous laughter filling the air.

 

\---

 

“See you tomorrow, Claire!” Sirius called cheerily as she locked the door behind him with a small wave. He turned around to bound down the sidewalk, and ran headlong into an unmoving form with an  _ oof! _

Somehow, Sirius managed to remain standing, though he stumbled back a few paces, arms windmilling in surprise. He looked up at the man he’d just accidentally accosted, and his face burst into a smile.

“Mr. Lupin!” he exclaimed exuberantly. “Sorry for running into you. What a funny coincidence; I was just getting off work.”

Lyall smiled back, but the expression was tired, and Sirius noticed a wariness to the man’s forest green eyes. “Hello, Sirius,” he greeted mildly. “I was just on my way home, myself. I think we’re heading in the same direction for a short stretch. Care to walk with me?”

Sirius knew the look on his face. It was the same look Hagrid always wore when talking to him or James, friendly but cautious, unsure whether some prank would occur. Suddenly plagued by an intense curiosity, he nodded enthusiastically, falling into step beside the taller man.

“Must be hard, homeschooling Remus and having a job, too,” Sirius commented. Lyall shrugged, but his expression softened.

“It is hard sometimes, but he’s very talented. To be honest, it’s the highlight of my day, teaching him.” There was pride in his voice, and a stab of jealousy struck Sirius. He looked down at the sidewalk, finding the little tufts of grass peeking through the concrete. “You go to boarding school, though?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, still a little subdued, but then perked up. “Remus told you?”

Lyall grinned. “He did. He talks a lot about you.” Melancholy forgotten, Sirius beamed up at Lyall with shining eyes, feeling like he could float home. “I actually went to boarding school, too. We were going to send Remus, but… well, he has a medical condition. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but it makes him being away from home rather difficult.”

“A medical condition?” Sirius repeated, alarmed.

Lyall waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing to be concerned about. How are you liking school?”

But the wheels in Sirius’s head were spinning, putting little puzzle pieces together. Remus’s wan skin, the dark circles beneath his eyes, how he was sometimes so exhausted. Of course he had some sort of medical condition. If only he could go to St. Mungo’s. “I love school,” Sirius answered distractedly. He was remembering that night Remus had pulled away from his touch, how he’d mentioned secrets that weren’t his to tell. “First place I felt like I belonged.” Then he paused, realising what he’d just said. It wasn’t like him to get so personal so fast, but his mind was elsewhere. Shaking his head, he shrugged sheepishly. “I made a lot of great friends. James is my best mate from school. His family, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, they let me live with them for a summer, and I’m always invited to Sunday dinner.” He grinned.

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter?” Lyall repeated, giving Sirius a speculative look. The boy nodded, slightly nonplussed.

Lyall considered this for a long moment. He’d learned long ago the value of observing before reacting, but seeing his son enamored with the child of Orion Black had incited a protective fear within him. It wasn’t just something he could let go. He could still recall the disdain Black had levelled on all those he’d considered “lesser” at school, and the man’s wife had been equally horrific. As he contemplated the boy walking next to him, however, it was hard to see a family resemblance in anything but his physical features. Even the crease of worry on his brow was a softer expression than he’d ever seen on a Black. He stopped walking, pressing knuckles against his chin in thought.

“Mr. Lupin?” Sirius said, rocking back and forth on his heels a little, not quite sure of this odd situation he’d found himself in.

“Sirius,” Lyall said solemnly. “I can’t recall Remus having a single friend who didn’t abandon him when they got to know him, and I’ve seen my son hurt enough to last a lifetime.”

Sirius’s eyes grew wide. “I will never abandon him,” he interrupted fiercely. “Remus is my friend. I know we’ve only known each other for half a summer, but I  _ understand _ him. He’s good, and kind, and those others clearly didn’t know him if they left him. And I’m not them either. I don’t abandon my friends.” 

This time, Lyall’s smile was earnest, unfiltered by mistrust. “Good. It’s a promise then. Oh, and maybe don’t mention that we had this conversation to Remus. He’d be embarrassed if he knew his daddy was threatening his boyfriend.” He winked at Sirius, then strode off to turn a corner. “Looks like this is where we split up. Nice seeing you!”

He left Sirius standing dumfounded on the sidewalk, cheeks burning, but a slow grin curled his lips. “Boyfriend,” he mouthed silently, giddy exultation welling in his chest.

James was waiting for him when he got home.

“I hate that you’re off at work every day,” he grumbled, absent-mindedly spinning a Fanged Frisbee on his finger, laying supine on the floor. Sirius snatched it from him, grimacing as it snarled threateningly.

“No Fanged Frisbees near the furniture, Prongs. You know you’re allowed to come visit me at work, right?”

James sat up and shrugged. “You seem to like your job. I don’t want to get you fired.” His smirk was suggestive, and Sirius laughed as he tossed the frisbee into the sink, where it wouldn’t be able to do any real damage. “Anyway, I was just stopping by real quick. Mum wanted me to tell you if you’re not at dinner this Sunday, she’ll let the cats sleep in your room. Specifically the orange ones.”

Sirius looked stricken. “I’ll be there! There’s no need for all that.”

“Good. Dad’s making vindaloo, and he’ll be taking it as a personal insult if you’re not there.” Sirius sighed, though there was no hiding the pleased expression on his face. James leapt to his feet and headed for the door.

“Where’s your broom?” Sirius asked, looking around. “Did you Floo?”

“Ah, I ran, actually,” James explained, looking somewhat sheepish. “I’ve been spending all this time laying about with you in the evenings, your laziness is rubbing off on me. I’ve got to stay in shape for Quidditch, so I’ve been running instead of flying.”

“I do not understand you sometimes,” Sirius said flatly, shaking his head in complete befuddlement. “You fly in Quidditch! There’s no running involved!” James let himself out the door, Sirius following. “Your broomstick does all the work.”

“I’m not a Seeker, Pads. I actually have to throw the ball around,” he said patiently.

“Oh, yes, I forgot, throwing the ball around. Such hard work.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Less than a kilogram. Such physical strength required.”

James leaned forward and shut Sirius up with a swift kiss on the lips. “Bye, Padfoot.”

Sirius pouted. “Bye, Prongs. Don’t get hit by a car.”

With a wave, James set off at a jog, and Sirius watched him disappear around the corner before sighing and returning inside, closing the door behind him.

Remus stood off to the side of the building, brain frantically processing the massive influx of information he’d just gained.

Sirius was disappointed when Remus didn’t show up to visit that night, nor did he stop by the shop the next day. His shift seemed to grow slower and slower as Sirius’s mood darkened by the minute, until Claire let out a frustrated groan and pulled the boy over to the counter.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, in a tone so reminiscent of McGonagall’s that Sirius stood up straight out of pure instinct. “Boyfriend trouble?”

“Can’t really call it that, since he’s not my boyfriend,” Sirius replied mournfully. “I thought things were going really well, but Remus hasn’t been by since I talked to his dad.”

Claire cocked her head to the side. “When was this?”

“Well, that was yesterday, but I haven’t seen him since the day before…”

“Oh, dear lord,” Claire interjected, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re really acting like this because it’s been two days since you’ve seen him. You can't be serious.”

Sirius’s face lit up. “Actually, I  _ am  _ Sirius.” He jumped backwards as she slapped at him.

“I’m trying to help you sort out your love life, and you’re giving me puns!” she hissed, and Sirius immediately fell back into an appropriately somber mood. “Now, the last time you saw Remus, how did it go?”

“I thought it went really well,” Sirius said, a slight whine in his words. “He met James, my best mate, and they seemed to get along really well.”

Claire sighed. “Why don’t you call him?” she proposed. Sirius blanched. 

“Uh, I don’t have a, er… well. I, er, wouldn’t know…” She watched him flounder, stony-faced for a moment longer before sighing.

“You don’t have his number?” she asked, and he nodded vigorously. “You don’t have a phone, either, now that I think of it. We don’t have a number listed for you in your file.”

“Right,” said Sirius nervously.

“Do you know his surname?” she asked, pulling her mobile out.

“Lupin.” Sirius watched in amazement as she fiddled with the device, and he wondered if this was how Muggles felt when they saw magic. There was a long moment of silence before she handed it to him.

“It’s ringing,” Claire said simply as Sirius took the mobile in his hands. Sure enough, he could hear a faint ringing sound coming from it. “Put it up to your ear,” she commanded sternly, and Sirius hesitantly followed her instruction, noting that the ringing was at just the right volume.

A light female voice spoke, nearly startling the mobile out of Sirius’s hands. “Hello?” He recognised it as Hope.

“Uh, hello?” he said hesitantly, pulling the phone away from his ear to look into it.

The responding voice was almost too quiet to hear. “Hello? Who is this?” Claire stared incredulously at him and forced the phone back up to his ear.

“Er, hi, this is Sirius Black,” he said, extremely wrong-footed. “May I speak to Remus?”  _ I am definitely talking to Minnie about switching out Ancient Runes for Muggle Studies _ , he swore vehemently to himself.

“Oh, Sirius! Hello, dear! Of course you can. Hang on for a second.” There were muffled noises now, and Sirius took the break to try and moderate his pounding heartbeat. This phone thing was far too stressful. He needed to get ahold of Evans and have her teach him about all this.

“Hello? Sirius?” The sound of Remus’s soft voice knocked the wind out of him, and he was struck speechless by the enormity of how much he’d missed him. “Er, hello?”

“Remus,” Sirius finally said, breathless. “Hi.”

“Hi.” His tone was wary, and Sirius had to fight the fear that sparked within him.

“So, um, I was just… wondering if something was wrong,” he said. “Only I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

Remus chuckled, and the sound of it sent shivers racing through his bones. “Sorry. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but I just haven’t had the chance. If you’d like I can come by tonight.”

“I’d like,” Sirius replied weakly.

“Alright then. Did you finally get a mobile?”

“Ahh, no. This is Claire’s. She got me your, er, number.”

“Oh, oka-- You’re calling me from work? Isn’t that against store policy or something?”

Sirius shrugged. There was a beat of silence before he realised Remus couldn’t see him. “Oh, er, I dunno. Maybe.”

Remus’s sigh was exasperated, but still coloured with mirth. “I’ll let you get back to it, then. See you tonight.”

“See you then.”

When Remus hung up the phone, he paused for a long moment, feeling slightly foolish at how much he'd missed even the sound of Sirius’s voice after such a short period of time. 

 

He showed up an hour after the sun had set, which happened to be two hours into Sirius’s frenetic pacing. James had been by, as usual, but Sirius had banished him back into the fireplace with a stern dismissal, telling him to come back tomorrow. When Remus finally stepped up to the door, he didn’t even finish reaching for the doorknob before Sirius flung the door open.

“I saw you from the window,” he said, by way of explanation. “It’s good to see you.”

Remus smiled, stepping inside. Sirius closed the door and made as if to sit down on the couch, but Remus caught his hand, pulling him back, the worry in his amber eyes enough to stop Sirius’s heart. “I just had something to ask you, and I wasn’t sure how to go about it,” he said carefully, taking in the raw fear in Sirius’s soft grey eyes, the tension in his body, the tendrils of sleek black hair falling carelessly from his messy bun over his ears, his shoulders, the red tint to his cheeks and mouth, and he steeled himself for the answer he was asking for. “Are you and James… more than friends?”

Sirius blinked, clearly taken aback. “Prongs and I…?” And then a flash of pain darkened his eyes for the briefest of seconds, and Remus concentrated on controlling his breathing. “James is like a brother to me,” Sirius explained softly. “We used to… well, there was something there once, but not anymore.”

“He kissed you yesterday,” Remus said quietly, and a lightbulb clicked on in Sirius’s head.

“You did come to see me yesterday!” he said excitedly, then promptly toned it down. “He did. We do that sometimes. It’s not, er, well.” He paused, struggling to put the experience into words. “He does it so I know he still loves me, even if it’s not the way he used to. It’s not romantic, or anything. But I can tell him to stop if it bothers you.”

The offer caught Remus off-guard. “Oh, Sirius, I can’t-- I’m not really in any position to tell you who to kiss,” he stammered, releasing Sirius to put his hands up defensively, fingers splayed. “I just, I asked because I didn’t want to misunderstand… anything. If you were with James, I didn’t want to, er, intrude.” His face was heating up. How did Sirius always manage to get him so flustered?

Sirius’s eyes were intent as he listened, taking in the words Remus was saying. An understanding bloomed within him as all the doubt that had been plaguing him dissipated. He took a step closer, sliding their palms together and lacing their fingers. “You are, though,” he murmured, “in a position, I mean. You haven’t misunderstood anything. You’re not intruding.” His voice was low, and his gaze was fixed on Remus’s mouth. Gently, he touched his forehead to Remus’s, searching his honey-coloured eyes for permission to express how he was feeling in the best way he knew how.

Remus was still as stone, lost in depths of warm grey. This was not how he had expected the night to go, but it was not an unpleasant development. He struggled to breathe normally as strands of dark hair tickled his skin, and instinctively he brushed a wayward lock behind Sirius’s ear. Sirius took that as confirmation and leaned in, full of a desperate want that was reaching its pinnacle within him, to ghost his lips slowly over Remus’s.

The sudden fear that shot through Remus constricted his pupils, and his breath hitched, a frisson of tension spilling through his body. Sirius instinctively drew back, freezing in panic, before pulling away, taking a small step backwards.

“Sorry,” he whispered, anxiety locking his muscles and, it seemed, most of his brain function.

Redness spread over Remus’s face, and he shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry. I just-- there are things, Sirius. We haven’t… You just don’t know.” His voice was pained, clearly conflicted. “I-- If you… Oh, sod it.” He took a quick breath, and the resolve that appeared in Remus’s expression superseded the fear so rapidly that Sirius didn’t have time to process it, much less react, before his face was in Remus’s hands and their lips were pressed together.

“Mmf,” Sirius managed. It took him less than a second to recover, however, and his fingers threaded through Remus’s soft waves in one fluid motion, kissing him back with an intensity born of all the moments he’d longed for this, of every instant their skin had touched, of each time their eyes had met and Sirius had wanted to eliminate the space between them. Their mouths opened, and all they were aware of was the beautiful, delicious mess of lips and tongue and teeth, hands exploring over hair and skin and cloth. The heat between them was like a cleansing fire, burning away all the guilt of unsaid words, the tension of not knowing where they stood or what the other wanted. Sirius had kissed a fair amount of people before, but never had he felt such a stirring need, and he whimpered against Remus’s mouth, pressing their bodies flush together. An inarticulate noise escaped Remus as he attempted to collect some semblance of rational thought through the dizzying tide of sensation flooding his body.

“Sirius,” he panted, pulling away, “I--” 

But Sirius had taken a few purposeful steps forward, and Remus now found his back pressed up against the door, lips and teeth grazing over the skin right below his jawline, and he was seeing stars. “Sirius,” he whispered again. “Too much.”

Instantly the heat of Sirius’s mouth vanished from his skin, and when he could finally see straight, he reverently drank in the sight of Sirius examining him, pupils blown with lust, hair tousled, mouth bruised red, and he swallowed. “Too much,” Sirius repeated breathily, a slight tremor in his voice. “I can see that.” Reluctantly he let go of Remus and stepped back, pulling his hair out of its half-undone bun. “Sorry.”

Remus shook his head, able to think considerably clearer now that he wasn't in direct contact with Sirius’s lithe body. “No, don't apologise. I'm just… not ready.” His smile was hesitantly reassuring and a little shy, and Sirius felt an answering smile spread over his face. 

“I can be less intense,” he offered, and Remus was quick to note that his tone was unusually subdued. 

“Just give me a little time,” he whispered, reaching out, fingers brushing Sirius’s hand. “I've never…”

“I understand,” Sirius interrupted, stepping close once more and placing his lips softly against Remus’s cheekbone. 

The sandy haired boy turned his head to capture Sirius’s mouth with his own, a sweet, lingering kiss before he drew back. “I've got to get home. I told my mum I'd only be out for a bit.”

“Tell her I said hello,” Sirius said, trying not to betray the quaver in his voice.

“See you tomorrow, Sirius.”

“That's a promise.”

Sirius waited until the sound of Remus’s footsteps had faded from the other side of the door before frantically setting a fire in the fireplace, flinging in a handful of Floo powder, and throwing himself into it, shouting “The Potters!”

He practically fell out of their grate, ash scattering all over the rug, and he was greeted by a familiar sigh. 

“Sorry, Mum,” Sirius apologised hastily. “Gotta speak to James.” And he sped past her before she could get a word out. Mrs. Potter shook her head and waved her wand, vanishing the ashes on the floor, and resumed reading. 

“Prongs--  _ oof! _ ” As he tore down the hall, he collided headfirst with James, and both of them were knocked onto their rears, James looking vaguely annoyed. 

“You banish me from your flat, and then you tackle me,” James complained, standing up. “To what do I owe the-- oi!” Sirius had gotten to his feet and forcefully drug James into his room, where he was glad to see there were as of yet no cats.

“Prongs, I kissed him,” he blurted out, closing the door behind him. James hooted with excitement, but Sirius kept talking. “He said he'd seen you kiss me yesterday, and he asked if there was anything going on.” 

“Should I not do that anymore?” James asked immediately, his tone concerned, but Sirius shrugged helplessly. 

“I don't know. I asked him, but I kissed him before he could really answer, and then I forgot about it.”

James pulled Sirius onto the bed so they were laying beside each other, James supine and Sirius face down. “Was it good?”

“It was amazing, Prongs. I've never had a kiss like that. But I think I might've come on too strong.” He picked his head up and shot James a pleading look. “I need to ask Evans about getting one of those mobile phones so I can talk to him without having to invite myself over to his house or wait for him to show up at my flat.”

The expression on James’s face was rueful. “Sorry to remind you, mate, but those Muggle things won't work when we're off at Hogwarts. We leave in a few weeks. What'll you do?”

Sirius let out a cry of despair. “What am I supposed to do? I can't exactly owl him!” The panic was rising in his voice. “I won't see him for months. What if he meets someone else? What if he realises he doesn't like me after all?”

James sighed. “Well, did he kiss you back?”

Sirius nodded into the bed. “With tongue, too.” His muffled words were infused with a modicum of pride amidst the dismay, and James ruffled his unusually messy hair affectionately. 

“Did he say he wanted to see you again?”

“Tomorrow.”

James flicked his cheek, provoking an offended cry. “He likes you, you git. Just calm down. How about this: while we're at Hogwarts, you can owl your letters to him here, and Mum will send them to Remus by Muggle post. She's pretty good with that sort of thing.”

When Sirius looked back up at James, his eyes were shining. “I love you, Prongs,” he gushed, and James chuckled. 

“I know, Padfoot.”

 

Meanwhile, Remus was trying to suffocate himself with his pillow. He could smell Sirius all over his clothes (and now the pillow,) and every time he closed his eyes all he saw was soft grey, and all he felt was warm lips and tender touches. He shuddered, pulling the pillow off his face to stare up at the ceiling. His tongue flicked over his lips, as though trying to taste a remnant of Sirius, and he felt full to bursting with a frenetic energy. 

“Remus?” Hope cracked the door open, peering into the room with knowing eyes and a smile textured with mischief. “Everything alright? You looked a little flushed.” 

He couldn't bring himself to respond, and his mother slipped into the room, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Has everything been going okay with Sirius?” she asked. 

Remus nodded mutely, then cleared his throat, saying, “He wanted me to tell you hello.” Hope giggled, and she gently took the pillow from Remus’s hands, laying it on the bed beside him. 

“Tell him I say hello back,” she said with a grin. 

His mind was working frantically, knowing his mum wouldn't leave him alone until she was satisfied, and trying to work out the best way to distract her. Suddenly, a memory popped up. 

“Oh, the other day, I caught a conversation between James and Sirius. James was leaving, but, it was weird, it sounded like they were talking about Quidditch, but I was too far away to hear properly. James said something about a Seeker, but they were talking about some sort of sport.”

Hope shrugged. “Professional sports teams have seekers that go out and recruit players,” she said reasonably. “Maybe that's what they were talking about. Remus, dear, why would a wizard work at a clothes shop for Muggles?”

He frowned. “You're right. That doesn't really make sense. If they did go to Hogwarts, I’ve never heard of a student taking on a Muggle summer job.”

Her intent gaze let him know that he wasn't off the hook yet, and he sat up, resigned to his fate. “We're going to talk tomorrow,” he said, but the short sentence was heavy with the multitude of worries and concerns besetting him, and a tired shadow dimmed his light eyes. “I know he likes me  _ now,  _ but what if I tell him I'm a wizard and he thinks I'm a freak? Or worse, he accepts that I'm a wizard and finds out I'm a werewolf?”

“Oh, I suppose your dad will have to cast. Memory Charm on him,” she answered, her tone off-hand, and she giggled at Remus’s nettled expression. “Oh, dear, you worry too much, I think. Even your dad could see Sirius was absolutely smitten with you. I'm sure you could turn into a dragon every Sunday and he wouldn't care.”

“He's seen me on a Sunday; of course he wouldn't believe that,” Remus retorted, trying to hide the blush he knew would be on his face. 

“You know what I mean, dear,” Hope said patiently. “Well, I'll leave you alone. Don’t stay up too late fretting. Everything will be fine.” She kissed him on the forehead, so assuredly optimistic that Remus felt some of his anxiety ease just by being in her presence. 

“Thanks. Goodnight, Mum.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to work out the story’s timeline in my head, and it’s pretty wonky thus far, so as long as you’re not paying too close attention, it’s fine, right? :D Sorry for the long wait for this chapter... and it's not even a very long chapter. D: I'm sorry. Kind of just wanted to get up what I had. Updates will probably not be as frequent now, as I’m starting back with school full time soon, but I’ll work as hard as I can<3

The light rain was unpleasantly warm, humidity rising from the pavement, and one step out of the air conditioning felt like inhaling a swamp. The dreadful weather kept people inside, and as a result, traffic in the shop was drastically less than usual as well. Sirius filled the long hours with long sighs, longing looks out the window, and an unmoving expression of misery. Claire had given up on speaking to him after the first hour, contenting herself with assigning him an unending stream of trivial tasks, secretly hoping to help get his mind off of whatever was troubling him.

When his shift finally ended, he offered her a despondent goodbye, grabbed the floral-patterned umbrella she had forced him to take the week before, and trudged out the door, thinking of how perfectly the weather aligned with his mood. 

Remus stood outside the shop holding a simple black umbrella, an affectionate smile warming his face at the sight of Sirius slipping out the door, even as a shadow of worry flickered behind his eyes. Upon catching sight of Remus, the cacophony of thoughts ringing through Sirius’s mind quieted, and suddenly the pattering of raindrops on pavement did not seem as hateful, the humidity didn’t seem so suffocating, and an involuntary joy tingled through his body as Remus held out his hand, which Sirius took like a lifeline, threading their fingers together as they began the walk back to his flat.

They didn’t speak as they walked because they didn’t need to, fingers playfully tickling exposed skin, elbows bumping against each other. The walk home seemed to take almost no time at all, and before they really knew it, they were both sitting at Sirius’s kitchen table, eyes bright, hands still clasped, each trying to think of how to begin.

“Sirius. I really like you,” Remus finally said, “but there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, and I don’t think it would be right for me to jump into anything…”

“I really like you, too.” His grey eyes had a sadness around the corners that stole Remus’s breath. “I don’t want to push you into anything, especially since I’m going back to Ho-- to, er, my school at the beginning of September. I won’t be back until around Christmas.”

Remus looked crestfallen for a moment before carefully rearranging his face into a studied frown. “Well, I guess that makes things simpler,” he remarked levelly, but halfway through his sentence Sirius spoke over him.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

There was a long silence as the boys stared each other, Sirius looking flushed but determined, Remus openly agape. No words would come; a startling blankness filled his mind as his heartbeat quickened, and as though from a distance he realised Sirius’s grip on his hand had tightened. He forced himself to think, but it wasn’t words that broke through. Instead he found himself ruminating on high cheekbones and full lips, grey eyes that were more complex than any colour Remus had seen before. He rose from his seat to bring their lips together, purposeful and tender, before dragging Sirius out of the chair, out of the kitchen, and onto the couch, where they lay wrapped around each other.

Sirius was rather lost, though he didn’t want to say anything for fear of messing up this good fortune. He nuzzled his face into the space between Remus’s neck and shoulder, drawing courage from his body heat. “I know you said yesterday was too much,” he murmured. “And I know you don’t want to jump into anything. But should I take this to mean we can just see where this goes? There are a lot of things I don’t know about you, but I know enough to say that those things won’t change how I feel. And I want to know more about you. I want to know everything.”

Remus gave a low chuckle that Sirius felt in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but fell silent as the door swung open, and a short, somewhat stocky boy with blond hair and deep blue eyes strode in. He spotted the two boys on the couch immediately, a pink tinge spreading over his face, but he smiled cheekily. “I suppose you’re Remus?” he asked, his voice a pleasant tenor. Remus nodded as Sirius groaned.

“Pete, I said I’d be busy tonight,” he whined, reluctantly extricating himself from Remus’s arms and sitting up.

“Actually, I’m going to assume you told that to James, because you didn’t say anything to me,” he replied with a long-suffering sigh. Sirius rolled his eyes and glanced at Remus, who had also sat up.

“He’s lulling you into a false sense of security,” Sirius said in a stage whisper. “Keep your guard up.” Remus gave Sirius a playful shove and stood up to shake Peter’s hand. 

“I am Remus,” he said politely. “Remus Lupin.”

“Peter Pettigrew.” They smiled at each other, and Remus felt an instant affection for the boy at the unbridled warmth in his expression. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Peter continued. “Actually, to be honest, I’ve heard literally nothing that wasn’t about you for quite a while now.”

Remus laughed as Sirius turned an endearing shade of red. “Sorry. Sirius has talked a bit about you as well. School friends, right?”

Peter nodded. “Not quite sure how it happened, me getting to be friends with two of the most popular blokes in school, but I can’t say I’m not pleased.” He grinned impishly, sitting down on the couch next to Sirius, who motioned Remus to sit on his other side.

“I can see how it happened,” Remus remarked. “The three of you seem like you fit really well together.”

The silence was so sudden that for a moment Remus worried he’d said something wrong. Peter was flushed, his eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted, but a glance at Sirius reassured him, as the dark haired boy had an almost shy smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. “Of course we do,” he said finally, and Peter settled into a happy-but-somewhat-abashed expression. “Prongs and I’d have detention every single night if it wasn’t for Wormtail.”

“Wormtail?” Remus repeated wryly, and the two boys laughed.

“Rats are small and clever, just like Pete,” Sirius explained, meeting Peter’s eye with a shared grin. 

“I suppose so.” Remus’s tone was slightly dubious, but he let the subject drop, and the three fell into conversation so naturally that one would’ve thought they’d all known each other for years.

 

Surprisingly enough for Remus, all three of the boys seemed to want to spend time with him. While Sirius was at work the next day, Peter took Remus to an ice cream shop, tucked away near the edge of town. He had raspberry ripple while Remus had chocolate, and they sat idly, sun warming their faces, drips of ice cream melting down their hands. Two days after, James convinced Remus to accompany him on a hike, showing up at his house at the crack of dawn. The hike ended (rather embarrassingly) with James laughingly carrying Remus on his back, refusing to hear Remus’s apologies and swearing that this was excellent for his health.

“What sport do you play again?” Remus had asked, head resting on James’s shoulder.

“Er, football?” he had replied hesitantly, and then abruptly changed the subject.

Sirius sputtered incoherently when he heard the story, narrated dramatically by James as the three boys squeezed themselves onto the sofa, picturing with jealousy Remus pressed against James’s back, before huffing and seating himself on Remus’s lap. 

“Oh, did you paint your nails?” Remus asked, diverting Sirius away from glaring at James by taking one of his hands, holding them up for inspection. “The colour suits you.”

“Thanks,” said Sirius enthusiastically, offering his other hand to James, elegant nails painted a dark indigo that was reminiscent of galaxies and nebulae. “Claire did it for me at work, so we'd match.”

“I like it,” James remarked. “Remus is right; it suits you.” He shot Remus a conspiring smirk, a silent thank-you for the distraction. 

At that moment, the door opened, and Peter walked in, clutching a large plastic bag full to bursting with squarish containers. “Brought some Chinese take-away,” he said by way of greeting. All three boys on the sofa jumped up with exclamations of equal parts glee and gratitude, ushering him to the kitchen table where they unloaded the bag and spread out the containers, divvying up chopsticks and sauce packets. Afterwards, they took a walk to the bakery down the road to have a few fresh biscuits before walking back and collapsing back on Sirius’s couch in a mess of bodies, sated and drowsy.

James and Peter both left a little before sunset, leaving Remus and Sirius wrapped up in each other's’ arms, the former finding himself nodding off, awash in Sirius’s distinct smell, warm and safe. He wasn’t used to waking up so early, nor was he used to getting so much exercise, or spending so much time around people that weren’t his family. An involuntary shiver of fear darted through him, his wandering thoughts piquing his anxiety as he wondered how they would react upon discovering that he was a werewolf. That is, if he ever told them and if they even believed him. Maybe it would be better if they thought he was crazy rather than be afraid of him knowing what he was. 

Sirius mistook his sudden shudder for cold and held Remus closer to him, warm breath ghosting over the pale skin of his neck, and a quiet hum of contentment thrummed from Remus’s throat. “I like your friends,” he murmured.

“I think they like you back. Maybe a little too much.” A hint of reproach crackled at the edges of Sirius’s tone, and Remus giggled, hand reaching to mesh itself into Sirius’s hair, which was an endless source of entertainment for him.

“Are you jealous?”

Sirius hmphed defensively. “Of course not. I’m not the jealous type.” Remus had to bite his lip to stop his laughing, but he decided to let the comment slide. He glanced down, thinking to ask Sirius something about school, but words stuck in his throat as his breath caught, feeling the full weight of Sirius’s ardent gaze on his face. At once he wanted both to look away and to lose himself in those stormy grey depths.

“Is this okay?” Sirius whispered, resting his hand softly on Remus’s cheek. Remus gave a barely perceptible nod, and Sirius leaned in, kissing him with a gentle heat, tongue cautiously exploring as Remus’s lips parted. The kiss didn’t have the torrid urgency of their first kiss but was instead wondrous and yielding, almost shy, and they came apart red-faced and smiling.

 

By the time Remus got home, it was dark, and his dad was waiting up for him. Muttering apologies and excuses about time getting away from him, exhausted and just wanting to get to bed, he tried sliding past Lyall to the staircase, but his dad followed him up to his room, standing in the doorway patiently as Remus flung himself onto his bed.

“Had fun today?” Lyall asked, off-hand.

“Yeah. Went on a hike with James, visited Sirius, and Peter brought over Chinese. We had a good time.” 

“So, when are the boys going back to school?”

Anxiety knotted itself snugly in Remus’s stomach. “First of September.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but couldn’t keep a hint of resignation from his tone. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Sirius says he’ll write, though.”

“What school is he going to?”

Remus paused. “I don’t know. Some boarding school in Scotland. I figured I wouldn’t know-- What is so funny?”

Lyall was leaning on the doorframe for support, clutching his stomach as he laughed. “Nothing, nothing,” he panted, wiping tears from his eyes. “Nothing. Well, get dressed for bed. You’ve had a long day, and you need your rest. Goodnight, son.” 

Boggled at his dad’s peculiar behaviour, Remus followed his instruction and got changed, filling his mind instead with the brilliance of Sirius’s smile and shining grey eyes.

 

“I don’t understand why boys wear such tight jeans anyway,” the old woman was saying as Sirius held up two different pairs of bootcut jeans.

“Yeah, I think they look ridiculous,” her son-grandson-whatever-he-was replied, offhand, neither of them seeing the flush creeping up Sirius’s neck, consciously aware of the dark, distressed denim hugging the curves of his legs. He ground his teeth to force a smile, pressing the jeans into the boy’s hands.

“Let me know if you need any more help,” he said, voice saccharine, before turning on his heel and storming over to the front, irritably tidying a stack of shirts. The door opened, and Sirius turned to say hello, but his breath caught in his chest at the sight of Remus, amber eyes sparkling, broad smile lighting up his face. Remus held the door open, and James slipped into the store behind him.

“Remus!” Sirius finally exclaimed when he recovered his faculties.

“What am I, chopped liver?” James demanded as Sirius seized Remus in a hug. 

“Prongs, what’s the occasion? You never visit me at work.” He released Remus and fixed James with a grin.

“Remus wanted to stop by.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius noticed with childlike glee that the old woman was ogling the three of them with a measure of disbelief while the boy she was accompanying was giving them something akin to a glare. This was not a new occurrence for Sirius or James, the latter of which didn’t even notice the attention. They were birds of a feather-- James in matching jeans, both of them in loose-fitting t-shirts in variants of Gryffindor colours. Remus didn’t seem at all out of place either, in denim cutoff shorts and a white tank top, hair uncharacteristically tousled.

At this detail, Sirius turned a suspicious eye to James. “What have you two been doing?” he asked, scowling as James laughed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased, watching with clear amusement as Sirius bristled.

“James took me to the animal shelter,” Remus explained quickly. “We were… Actually, I’m not sure what we were supposed to be doing, but they put us in a room with a lot of cats.”

“Some of the cats really liked Remus,” James added with a chuckle as Remus grinned.

“Some of them hated me,” he admitted. “But yes, some of them seemed reluctant to let me leave.” He had been rather nervous when they had arrived at the shelter, uncertain whether the animals would react poorly to him. Some domesticated dogs in his past had smelled the wolf on him and were either fearful or aggressive, while some had been indifferent, but it was always hit or miss. Remus had felt a great deal of relief when even the cats who seemed to know what he was would rather keep their distance than antagonize him. Indeed, one cat in particular had claimed his head as its sleeping spot, and was quite opposed to getting off him when the boys wanted to leave. “I hope we’re not keeping you from anything.” He glanced apprehensively at the pair of customers that by now had stopped openly gawking but were instead settling for furtive glares.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Nothing important,” he said meaningfully.

James glanced over just in time to meet the boy’s eye, and he winked coquettishly. Remus and Sirius both had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing as the boy turned a violent shade of red and hurriedly strode to the opposite side of the store. James sighed. “Can’t get Evans to give me a second look. Now I can’t even get a Mugg--” He froze as Sirius and Remus both turned to look at him, expressions alarmed and curious, respectively. He cleared his throat self-consciously. “Can’t even get a mawkish boy’s interest,” he finished weakly. Remus opened his mouth to speak, but Sirius interrupted hastily.

“Anyway, Remus, has James told you anything about Evans?”

“Er, no, I don’t think so,” Remus answered, looking slightly perplexed. 

“Out of sight, out of mind, eh, Prongs?” Sirius remarked, an eyebrow raised haughtily.

“No, I just didn’t think Remus wanted to hear about my girl problems.”

“Peter and I don’t want to hear about your girl problems either,” Sirius protested indignantly, but James just shrugged.

“Sorry. You two are already in too deep.”

Sirius grabbed Remus around the shoulders. “You’re a part of us now, Remus,” he said solemnly. “So you must now bear the same burdens. James is madly in love with one Lily Evans, but she won’t give him the time of day. He enjoys filling his time by talking incessantly about her. Peter thinks he should just give up. I think there’s a chance, if James stops being a prat around her, but who knows? Now you’re all up to speed.” He smiled as Remus laughed.

“I assume Evans goes to school with you both?” he asked.

James nodded, and he couldn’t help the smile that began to curl the corners of his lips. “Met her on the train the first day. The two of you would probably get along.”

Remus shrugged modestly.

“Boys…” Claire’s frosty voice floated over to them, and they all stiffened. “Maybe have your little get-together when the store is closed?” They felt her glare in their spines, and all nodded as one.

“Well, Sirius, it’s been fun,” James said, heading for the door.

Remus briefly grasped his hand, a fleeting warmth that spread throughout the rest of Sirius’s body. “See you tonight?” he asked softly.

Sirius nodded. “Bye.”

 

Remus and James sat at the edge of the lake in companionable silence, James with his feet in the water, heedless of getting the hems of his jeans wet. The sun burned above them, the nearby trees dappling the boys with shadows. “So, Lily Evans,” Remus said with a grin.

“Lily Evans,” James agreed, leaning back on his elbows. “Smart, witty, gorgeous. Bit of a questionable taste in friends, but I guess no one’s perfect. Thought she was a bit irksome at first, but last year it was like I started to really see her.” He glanced at Remus, a shadow of guilt on his face. “I don’t know if Sirius told you, but, um, well, he and I…” He fidgeted, and Remus chuckled.

“Sirius told me,” he said, interrupting gently, and James flushed. “Anyway, you can’t expect me to think there’s anything between you two when now I’ve seen the way you look when you’re talking about Evans.” James laughed, flopping fully onto his back, and Remus envied the boy’s fluidity and freedom of emotion. It was a characteristic he was noticing in all three of them, and he nurtured a secret hope that it would someday be part of him as well. He watched James squirm into a more comfortable spot on the grass for a moment before laying down beside him, propped up on his elbow. “So, why doesn’t Sirius have a mobile?” he asked carefully, intently aware of James’s sudden tension.

“He, er, well, we’re not allowed them at school, so he didn’t think it practical to have one just for summer,” he explained, haltingly at first, but his tone growing more confident by the word. 

“Mmm.” He considered the muscles visible beneath James’s rich brown arms. “And you play for your school’s football team, right?”

“Yeah. Well, the school has four teams, and we compete against each other throughout the year.” His eyes were closed behind his glasses, expression utterly relaxed. “I’m my team’s captain. Sirius commentates. We’ve won the House Cup for the past three years now.” Pride swelled his words, and Remus grinned. 

“What position do you play?”

“S-striker.” The stutter was so slight that Remus thought he might’ve imagined it, for James hadn’t moved, the serenity of his face undisturbed. “Sirius should be getting home about now, and I should be heading home as well. Shall I walk you back?” He opened his eyes, mischief sparkling in their hazel depths, a teasing smile on his lips. Remus shrugged, returning the smile.

“Sure.”

 

After a few quiet hours with Sirius, Remus got home and looked around for his dad, finding him after a few minutes asleep in the kitchen.

“Dad?” he asked gently, laying a hand on Lyall’s shoulder. The man sat up abruptly, blinking and muttering. “Dad?” Remus said again, sitting down. “Long day?” He waited patiently as Lyall scrubbed his eyes with his hand and shook the bleariness from his head. 

“Bit of a long one, yeah,” he mumbled. “Thanks for waking me up. A little embarrassing though, getting caught sleeping at the kitchen table.” He chuckled sheepishly, stretching his long arms above his head.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Remus asked, but carried on before Lyall could reply. “I’ve noticed James and Sirius acting weird about certain things, and at first I thought it was just because I wasn’t used to them, or that I was just different because I was home schooled, but the more it happens, the more I feel like they’re keeping something from me. And I don’t want to bring it up in case I’m wrong because they’ll think I’m crazy, and I might be crazy.”

Lyall stared at his rambling son, wondering mildly if he was still asleep and dreaming as many of the words were lost in the muddiness of his still-tired mind.

“And I don’t want to get in trouble, either. It’d be rather embarrassing to have to have my dad cast a Memory Charm on my friends. But if I’m right--”

“Remus,” Lyall interrupted tiredly, “what are you asking me?”

The boy drew in a breath. “I think James, Sirius, and Peter are wizards.”

Lyall stared at Remus, who stared back, both of them expressionless. A long moment passed as Remus began to get nervous, wondering if his dad was about to ridicule him for having such an absurd idea. Then Lyall began to laugh, a low chuckle at first that transformed into a full-bellied roar, tears leaking out of his eyes. Bewilderment washed over Remus as he watched his dad cackle, unable to think of anything to say.

Finally, the laughter subsided into breathless gasps, and Lyall wiped his face. “Son, that took you far longer than I expected,” he chided playfully. “Sirius Black and James Potter are both from very well-known pureblood wizarding families. Of course they’re wizards. I suppose it is my fault for not teaching you about any sort of wizarding genealogy, but I figured growing up half-Muggle would make you a little suspicious about two boys with no mobile tones and who aren’t very good with that paper Muggle money.”

“Mobile phones,” Remus automatically corrected, numbly attempting to process his dad’s words. After a moment, his brain halted on a specific detail. “Wait, you  _ knew _ ?” 

Lyall chuckled again. “Thought I’d see how long it took you to figure it out.” A sudden flicker of worry crossed his face. “I know you said Sirius ran away from home. Does he talk about his family at all?” Remus thought for a moment.

“Hasn’t said much. I try not to ask because I know it’s a sore spot. From what he’s said, though, I gathered that his parents are rather stuck-up.”

The look Lyall fixed on his son turned grave. “I went to school with his dad. He was… Well, let’s just say when I found out Sirius was his son, I was very worried about the two of you being friends.” His words were heavy with unsaid meaning, but Remus understood with a tight pinch of fear low in his belly. “He wasn’t the most… open-minded of wizards. Sirius seems like a really nice boy, nothing like Orion, but growing up in that household… I just don’t want to see you hurt.” His deep green eyes were sorrowful. “I know you like him. I like him, too. Just, be careful?” He placed a strong hand on Remus’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Sirius isn’t like that,” Remus said softly. “He would understand.” He hoped saying the words would help him believe them.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Remus grinned suddenly, taking his dad by surprise. “No. I mean, eventually. But won’t it be sort of fun to just… not tell him I’m a wizard?”

Lyall snorted. “It’s for the good of his education,” he agreed sagely. “Making sure he can pass for a Muggle.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are interested in seeing me procrastinate instead of writing, you can follow me on tumblr @fishwriter *shameless plug*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh long wait for a short chapter. I'm so sorry. It'll probably be consistently long waits now that school is in full swing, but I'll do my best~

The first day of school was drawing ever nearer, and for the first time, Sirius wished his summer would last a little longer. Even the year before, spending the summer with the Potters had been fun, filled with a sense of home and belonging like he’d never experienced before, but school was where he belonged. This year, on the other hand, he would have to leave behind Remus, and he felt a little choked up at the thought. 

In a gesture that took Sirius completely by surprise, Remus had given him a gift that had rendered him speechless and on the verge of tears.

“My dad bummed this off a mate at work, and I asked if we could give it to you,” Remus had explained as Sirius stood agape. “It was, ah, not put together correctly, with a few parts that were a little illegal, so they confiscated it and stripped it down. Obviously it needs some repair and rebuilding, but Dad hasn’t really got any interest in it. He just took it because it was free. If you don’t want to bother with all the repairs, though, I can see if Dad has something else he wants to do with it.” Remus’s voice grew more concerned as he spoke, noticing that Sirius’s expression wasn’t changing from stunned blankness.

“No, I…” Sirius swallowed, turning to look meaningfully at his friend. “I  _ love  _ this.”

The black motorbike was not much to look at… nor was it even truly a motorbike, for a quarter of it seemed to be missing, but when Sirius looked at it, all he saw was potential.

“We can keep it for you at our house,” offered Remus with a smile, “while you’re away at school. Will you be getting your license soon?”

The question caught Sirius off-guard. “My license?” he asked hesitantly.

Remus nodded sagely. “I think for this one you’d need to be 19, but it’s easier if you get your provisional at 17.”

“Oh, yes,” Sirius agreed emphatically. “November. I’ll be 17 in November. I’m not very familiar with the motorbike laws,” he admitted, staring at the bike, missing the mischievous gleam in Remus’s eyes.

“Neither am I, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. We can keep it here until you get your provisional, if you’d like.” Sirius was still looking at it, seemingly unable to to tear his eyes away, and Remus felt a deep satisfaction at the exuberant awe on his face. Perhaps later Remus would mention that it was confiscated for having quite a few illegal customizations, such as belching copious amounts of smoke in the shape of dragons, and a tendency to sprout wings and glide over other vehicles in heavy traffic. These modifications had been removed by the Ministry, of course, though no doubt Sirius would have found them amusing.

Sirius ended up spending a great deal of time at the Lupins’ over the next few weeks, during which Remus found a great deal of opportunity for mischief.

“Hey, Sirius,” Remus said, sitting up against the wall of the house while Sirius tinkered in the driveway, an array of motorcycle parts laid out around him. “Peter said you and James tutored him at school?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, do you think you’d be able to spare a moment to help me get my head around this?”

Sirius perked up, looking over curiously. “I can try,” he offered, scooting over.

“It’s just basic physics,” Remus explained sweetly. “I should’ve learned it last year, but I was struggling in Chemistry. Here, I just can’t seem to grasp these entropy equations.” He watched as Sirius’s expression became perfectly still, a studied calm passing over his face, as his grey eyes scanned the equations.

“Math was never my strongest subject,” he said, sounding somewhat dubious. “Perhaps your dad might be better suited--”

“Oh, well, maybe instead of working through the equations with me, you could just sort of explain the entropy thing? I don’t quite understand the concept…”

Sirius visibly brightened. “Entropy is essentially disorder. If you have, er, a bunch of rats, and you put them in a box, there’s going to be some disorder, but not a lot, because the box is small. If you open the box in a large room, the entropy will increase because the rats will all run out of the box and be everywhere, and you won’t be able to keep track of them as well. The bigger the space, the more disordered the rats will be. And entropy is always increasing, because if you think of the rats as all the things in the universe, the universe is getting bigger, so the rats will have more and more room to go explore. Does that make sense? … Er, Remus?”

The werewolf sat, mildly stunned for a moment, before putting himself back together. “Yeah, that actually makes a lot of sense,” he admitted, rather abashed. He hadn’t expected Sirius to have a working knowledge of thermodynamics, knowing most wizards only teach their children basic maths and english before they were off to Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, Sirius was fervently giving his silent thanks to Mr. Potter, who had insisted on teaching his boys Muggle science, maintaining that it was far more useful than they’d understand.

Of course, Sirius didn’t manage to quite slide by on every occasion. When Remus had asked him if he could put wet clothes in the dryer, he panicked. The realtor had mentioned something about clothes washers and dryers when he’d moved into his flat, but he hadn’t given it much thought as Mrs. Potter had kindly offered to wash his clothes for him over the summer, since he couldn’t use magic yet. He stood in the Lupins’ laundry room, trying to regulate his breathing as he puzzled through what he should be doing. It couldn’t be terribly difficult, he told himself anxiously. He warily opened the door to one of the machines, and it was empty. The other machine next to it was full of damp clothes. Okay. Easy enough. Sirius pulled out all the damp clothes and put them into the empty machine, closing the door with a sigh of relief that his panic was unwarranted.

Until Remus walked by and rolled his eyes, asking if he could please  _ start _ the dryer, in a tone that made it clear he thought Sirius was goofing around on purpose.

Casually drumming on the dryer with his fingers, he scanned the thing, looking for clues. There were three different knobs. With a quick glance around to make sure Remus was safely out of sight, he began furiously fiddling with them until the dryer began to make a bunch of noise, Sirius’s cue to high-tail it back into the kitchen, where Remus sat with a history textbook and two glasses of milk.

“Thanks,” he said with barely a glance up, flipping a page, inwardly thinking that even if he had to spend an extra hour finishing the laundry after Sirius left, it would be worth it to have seen Sirius so discomfited. He reached over and took Sirius’s hand, lacing their fingers together, smiling as the dark-haired boy relaxed into the touch.

Sirius wasn't the only one to become the target of Remus’s little pranks either. James was much more composed around Remus than Sirius often was, and so whenever Remus managed to fluster the dark-skinned, bespectacled boy, it always filled him with a rush of triumph. James and Sirius happened to show up unannounced one day, forcing Lyall and Remus to hastily stow away their wands and Transfiguration textbook as Hope fielded the two boys into the living room. 

“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Remus asked wryly, walking in to find them tussling on the couch, fighting over the TV remote.

“You get more channels,” Sirius declared, James’s hand pressing obtrusively into his cheek. Remus smirked, stepping behind them and pulling the remote out of their groping hands, taking advantage of his height to keep it away from them.

“Hey, why don’t we play a video game?” he suggested sweetly. Sirius and James ceased their struggle and both looked up at him, curiosity shining on their faces. “You’ve both played Mario Kart before, right? Everyone’s played Mario Kart.” He began setting up the game, trying not to betray his amusement as James and Sirius both began laughing nervously.

“Of course we have,” James said. “It’s, er, been a while, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s like riding a bicycle,” Remus replied cryptically, and the two boys exchanged anxious looks before Remus handed them each a controller, biting the skin of his cheek to keep from bursting into hysterics at the way they stared down at them, utterly perplexed. He feigned a moderately curious look at them, then nodded in faux-understanding. “The controller’s way different than it was. What did you two have, GameCube? 64?” He repressed a giggle as Sirius and James both nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, well, this should be a lot simpler, then.”

Patiently, Remus went over the basics of how the Wii controller worked and how to play the game. Of course, by the time they had really figured it out, Remus could hardly believe they’d never played before. James’s competitive side was on display as he ran his friends off the road, while Sirius was resorting to underhanded tactics, such as tickling Remus and James whenever they got too far ahead.

Hope poked her head in at the sound of boys screeching, something she wasn’t quite used to, to make sure the living room was still in one piece and none of the boys were dead or severely injured, and she felt an odd flutter in her heart when she caught sight of them shoving and elbowing each other, all of them having slipped off the couch and onto the floor, all sitting up in various states of tension. A tender smile stole onto her face, and her throat felt a little tight, momentarily overcome at this so very normal sight that she was seeing for the first time. Swallowing, she slipped into the kitchen to make some cookies.

 

Remus thought he should’ve realised that Mario Kart would’ve been too much for James and Sirius, as he carefully examined Sirius’s swelling jaw amidst James’s profuse apologies (which seemed to lack sincerity, as they were peppered with fits of giggles.) James had been blue-shelled right as he was about to win, allowing Sirius and Remus to whizz past him in first and second place. He’d thrown his hands (and controller) up in outrage, and the Wii-mote had smacked Sirius with an alarming crack in the face.

Somewhat to Remus’s surprise, the fine-boned boy had borne the hit silently, with merely a startled grimace, even as the cheek almost immediately began to redden and swell. James was overflowing with immediate apology, though he started to laugh when Sirius smirked and muttered a snide comment about being a sore loser. 

With a resigned sigh, Remus quickly got a cold pack from the kitchen and brought it back to Sirius, gently pressing it to his face. James stared curiously at the blue packet, visibly itching to ask how it worked, though he remained quiet.

“It’s fine, Remus,” Sirius was saying, embarrassment colouring his voice. “It’s not that bad.” Automatically, he took the pack from Remus and held it obediently to his jaw. “Not half as bad as that time James hit me with his broomstick.”

“Rambunctious housekeeping?” Remus asked with a smirk, and James cackled as redness suffused the rest of Sirius’s face. 

“Padfoot would rather faff about than help clean, so I may have thrown a small tantrum. But I didn’t mean to hit him then either,” James explained smoothly, once his laughter subsided. He and Sirius exchanged grins, both of them remembering James’s exuberance at making Gryffindor’s Quidditch team, doing loops on his broom, briefly spiralling out of control, and catching Sirius in the back of the head with the handle before landing. 

Remus was shaking his head, gently tilting Sirius’s head to get a better look. “Well, you might get a nice bruise, but d’you think you’ve still got all your teeth in?”

Sirius felt around in his mouth with his tongue for a moment before nodding, and Remus grinned.

“Well, good. Maybe no more video games for a little bit, yeah?” He gave Sirius a quick kiss on the jaw, snorted at James’s indignant little whimper-harrumph, and kissed his cheek as well. 

Hope poked her head in at this very opportune moment to sharply remark, “Remus, you are only allowed to have one boyfriend at a time.” And James and Sirius dissolved into hysterics at the dramatic shade of crimson Remus’s face turned.

 

Peter, Remus assumed, was either a half-blood or Muggle-born, as he seemed perfectly at ease with all things Muggle. Remus had tossed him and Sirius some Chinese finger traps he’d dug up from his closet. Blue eyes wide with a mischievous smirk dancing on his thin lips, Peter immediately explained to the perplexed Sirius that it was a toy, and within seconds, Sirius’s fingers were trapped, a look of mixed panic and dismay stamped on his face.

Peter burst into laughter as Remus tried to maintain a calmly quizzical expression. “You alright, Sirius?” he asked, a hint of concern to his voice as the dark-haired boy stretched the finger trap.

“Careful not to break it, Padfoot,” Peter warned, breathless with mirth. Sirius’s brows knitted together as he wiggled his fingers, trying to pull them apart, and Remus committed the image to permanent memory.

“Remus,” Sirius said dourly, pulling fruitlessly, “this is a cursed object.” He looked up, alarmed and bewildered as both Remus and Peter collapsed in wheezing laughter.

“You’ve never… seen one before?” The disbelief in Remus’s voice was very convincing, and Sirius felt his face grow warm. “Well, looks like you’ll be stuck forever.”

“So cruel, Remus,” Sirius protested, holding up his tethered hands. “Free me!”

The next half hour was spent leading Sirius on a merry chase throughout the house, until Sirius tripped and fell into a graceful somersault right at Hope’s feet. After she’d had her laugh, she took pity on the disheveled boy and showed him that he needed to push his fingers together to release it. 

“Thanks, Mum,” he said, his words in a breathless rush of grateful surprise, out before he could realise what he’d said. Heat rose to his cheeks as he looked shyly up at her, and he was happy to see she was beaming.

“Any time, dear.”

 

The end of August came with a depressing swiftness, and too soon Remus found himself sitting on Sirius’s bed, looking at the boy’s packed trunk. “I’ll write you,” Sirius was saying, hands fidgeting.

“I’ll write you back,” Remus replied, though he couldn’t keep a hint of melancholy from his voice. “I wish I could see you off at the station.” Though it would’ve given him away, Remus did wish he could accompany Sirius to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, partly just to see his shock, and mainly because he could never seem to get enough time with Sirius, but the tutor was coming to work with him on Potions and was unwilling to reschedule. Impulsively, Remus seized Sirius’s restless hands in his own and pulled him onto the bed so that they were both laying on their sides beside each other, face to face. 

“You've never slept in my bed, have you?” Sirius asked, though his tone implied the question was rhetorical. “Maybe we can fix that when I come home for Christmas…?” As Remus flushed, Sirius backtracked. “I mean, just sleeping. Spending the night.” His own cheeks were reddening as he teetered on the verge of beginning to ramble, but Remus answered before his nerves could carry him away. 

“I'd like that,” he said softly, and though the blush still coloured his face, his amber eyes held not even a shadow of anxiety or uncertainty, and Sirius relaxed, pressing his forehead against Remus’s. “Will I have to worry about other boys sleeping in your bed with you at school?” he asked teasingly, and Sirius flashed him a playful grin. 

“Oh, yes,” he said mischievously. “James and Peter have a penchant for finding their way into my bed.” He didn't mention that this usually only happened when Sirius woke them in a nightmare-induced fit. “But for your peace of mind, Remus, I'll thank them to keep their hands to themselves.”

Remus giggled. “I'm not all that concerned about them,” he admitted, matching Sirius’s playful mood. “You sure you won't suddenly realise you like girls?”

“Definitely not. I already know I like girls. I like you more.” He touched his lips to Remus’s forehead as the boy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “Don't worry. I'm all yours.” Before Remus could fully process the words, Sirius’s mouth was on his, tongue licking at his own, and Remus let the gloom of Sirius’s impending departure melt away into the kiss, pulling the dark haired boy on top of him, bodies flush. It was warm and heavy, and by the time Sirius pulled away, a sweet drowsiness had settled over the two of them, the red glow of sunset sneaking in through the window.

“I guess I should head home,” Remus murmured, getting up.

Sirius levelled an intense gaze on him, grey eyes tumultuous but unreadable, and it settled like a weight on Remus’s chest. “I’ll miss you,” he whispered, the softness of his voice masking the gravity of his emotion. 

“I’ll miss you, too.”

It looked to Remus like Sirius wanted to say something more, elegant brows furrowing, teeth skimming his bottom lip, but he merely stood up and pulled him into a tight hug. “See you at Christmas,” Remus said, as cheerfully as he could manage, and gave Sirius a lingering kiss.

That night, they both laid awake, trying and failing to ignore the ache of loneliness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! School is crazy. A lot happens in this chapter~ It was how I motivated myself to keep writing, haha. I'll probably end this fic after all the revelations have passed. Also, I have no idea what calendar year this is taking place, so I'm just going with it. :D Your comments give me life<3

The autumn months dragged by for Sirius, punctuated with owls from Remus (because apparently Hogwarts had a Muggle post address, something Sirius was overwhelmingly delighted to hear from Mr. Potter.) He slumped around under a black cloud one week near the end of September because he’d gotten a letter that Remus was ill, though the boys were all glad to hear he recovered quickly. By early October, Professor McGonagall had pulled him aside after class to ask if everything was alright, as an entire month had passed without him being assigned detention (though the same could not be said of James and Peter.) He had flushed and mumbled something incoherent, which honestly told McGonagall all she needed to know, and she merely sighed and let him go, reminding him in a rarely heard gentle tone that her door was always open if he needed someone to talk to.

Finally near Halloween, James, Sirius, and Peter did their annual pumpkin prank, which this year involved all the suits of armour sporting pumpkin heads that spit seeds at passersby, which would turn their heads into pumpkin heads as well. It seemed they might get out of detention for it as well, as Professor Dumbledore seemed to find it rather amusing, until Mrs. Norris ingested a stray pumpkin seed and began projectile vomiting copious amounts of seeds.

“Damn cat,” Sirius sighed, half-heartedly scrubbing pumpkin pulp off the corridor wall.

Peter shook his head. “Well, at least now we know how the charm affects animals.” Glumly, Sirius slopped a handful of pulp into the nearby bucket and didn’t respond. Peter gave him an inquiring glance before turning back to his own bucket. “So, Remus is sick again?”

A wry expression crossed Sirius’s face as he nodded. It was quiet for a long moment before he spoke, the words tumbling out past a barrier of hesitance. “His dad told me he had a medical condition,” he admitted. Evident curiosity flickered in Peter’s eyes, but he remained silent, watching as Sirius’s hands fell from the pulpy wall, as he sat back on his heels and considered the floor with a dark look on his face. “I guess I didn’t notice it during the summer because of how little time I’ve spent with him, but I could see it sometimes, how tired he was.”

“Wish there was something we could do,” Peter murmured, looking away, processing. Sirius lethargically returned to his task.

\--

The morning of November the third, Sirius awoke in his four-poster bed to his two friends laying on either side of him, staring at him with wide smiles, and a tawny school owl hooting angrily as it fluttered above him. Seeing his eyes open, the owl dropped a parcel onto his chest and flew off. “Wha…?” Sirius muttered, but was interrupted as James threw an arm over him and planted a kiss on his forehead.

“Happy birthday, Padfoot!” he exclaimed, the sentiment echoed by Peter. Sirius grumbled good-naturedly before sitting up and rubbing his eyes, picking up the nondescript brown box. The Hogwarts postal address was written on it in Remus’s tidy handwriting, he noticed with a grin, but before he could open it, four more boxes were placed on top.

“Looks like my parents decided to send you something, too,” said Peter, his tone somewhere between sheepish and impish, and James did not have to say anything for Sirius to know that one of the boxes was from the Potters.

By the time he’d unwrapped everything, they were late to breakfast, Sirius exclaiming his gratitude for the set of Auto-Answer Quills and Self Correcting Ink from Peter, and the set of enchanted knives from James. 

“Just be careful,” James was saying. “The one that can cut through anything, it really means anything…”

That night, he wrote a long roll of parchment to Remus thanking him for the homemade cupcakes, the record player, and the small set of vinyls, and detailing all his various exploits of the day. Remus had included some basic instructions for how to operate the record player, since it was such an old machine, and Sirius had spent much of the evening playing Pink Floyd in the dormitory, much to the delight of Peter, and he was practically quivering with joy at the thought of having this contraption in his flat. 

He'd ended the letter by saying “I miss you” after a moment of quiet deliberation once he'd written the “I.” It was possibly one of the best birthdays he’d ever had, and he settled into bed smiling.

\--

The end of November drew near, and Peter watched curiously as an owl dropped off a letter to Sirius written in a shaky hand. “Remus ill again?” he asked, expression unreadable, and Sirius frowned, opening the letter. His grey eyes scanned it quickly, and he offered a brusque nod. “Padfoot, haven’t you noticed something about the times Remus has been sick?” His blue eyes were anxious, and he chewed his lip as he talked. When Sirius gave him a blank look and shook his head, he turned to James. “Have you, Prongs?” 

“Can’t say I have, Wormtail,” James replied, raising an eyebrow quizzically. Peter sighed.

“It’s because you two dropped Astronomy,” he complained, and Sirius snorted.

“Yeah, because I don’t fancy spending my night times looking through a telescope,” he retorted. “I don’t see how you sleep, Wormtail, running around with us and taking night classes--”

“He’s always sick on the full moon.”

Sirius fell instantly silent, his eyes growing wide.

“It must be a coincidence,” he said after a long moment, taking an overlong swig of pumpkin juice.

“But Pads…” James said quietly, the gears turning quickly in his head. “His scars. His homeschooling.”

Uncertainty and fear flooded him, two emotions he absolutely loathed. “He can’t…” Sirius muttered, shaking his head. “I-- He couldn’t…” But he was replaying all the odd moments of their summer, talk of secrets, Lyall’s guardedness about his medical condition. He stood up abruptly, mumbling something nonsensical, then strode out of the Great Hall, leaving James and Peter looking baffled behind him. 

Sirius moved on auto-pilot until he got to his dormitory, throwing himself on James’s bed and smothering his face with the pillow, breathing robotically in and out. He hadn’t moved when James came in fifteen minutes later.

“Why my bed?” he asked, a hint of asperity in his voice. Sirius merely grunted, and James sighed, sitting down next to him. “So, Remus might be a werewolf.” His tone was off-hand yet cautious, and he watched Sirius carefully for his reaction. 

“He can’t be,” Sirius mumbled, though he didn’t sound convinced, the words muffled by the pillow. “He can’t be a werewolf. Werewolves are child-eating monsters. They’re creatures of Dark magic. They’re evil, and cruel, and have no souls.”

A harsh glint appeared in James’s hazel eyes. “Have you ever met a werewolf before?” he asked sharply.

“Well, no, but--”

“Then how would you know that?”

Sirius finally sat up, shoulder to shoulder with him, looking aggrieved. “Prongs, everyone knows they kill children…”

“Yeah, if they come across any children, or anyone human for that matter, on the one night of the month they’re transformed. But what about the rest of the time?”

But Sirius was shaking his head stubbornly. “How can they be good people when they do things like that?”

There was a brief silence as James considered this, Sirius’s expression dark. James searched his best friend’s face, processing the hardness in his grey eyes, the tightness of his mouth. “Do you think I would become an evil, cruel person if I was bitten by a werewolf?” he finally asked.

Sirius looked stricken. “I-- No. Prongs… No. But… Not at first.”

“He lives with his family,” James said, irritation creeping into his voice. “Do you really think they let him roam about and eat babies? Even just once a month?”

“I--”

“Sirius.”

He looked helplessly at his stern-faced friend, feeling tremors beginning in his hands, losing his careful control of his breathing. It was too much to process. “I don’t know,” he whispered defeatedly, unable to look James in the eye. 

“All we learned about werewolves is that they transform at the full moon, and that they prey on humans. They aren’t in control when they’re in their werewolf form. There’s no cure, and there’s a lot of legislation against them.” He paused, turning to face Sirius, their thighs pressing together. “Who taught you that they have no souls?”

The answer stuck in his throat, but James waited patiently, eyebrows slightly raised. Chest feeling tight with the sudden weight of self-loathing, Sirius spat, “My parents.”

James gave him a pointed look, then shrugged, as if to say, See? With a heavy exhalation, Sirius collapsed against his friend, burying his face in his chest as James’s arms settled around him. “It’s okay,” he murmured soothingly as Sirius’s breathing grew ragged.

“He’s been by himself,” Sirius said wetly. “His dad even told me he’s never had any friends. And I was ready to--”

“Shh. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I--”

“Are you going to owl him a breakup letter?”

“No, but--”

“Are you going to treat him like a soulless monster?”

“No, but--”

“Are you going to keep being his friend?”

“Yes, but--”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, but…” Sirius paused, confused, as James grinned.

“Then tidy yourself up, and let’s get to Transfiguration. Or keep crying, and maybe Minnie won’t give us detention for being late.”

“Arsehole.” Sirius pulled away from James and rubbed his eyes, offering a shy smile that lit up James’s memories of the enigmatic-eyed boy in their earlier years, and James felt a rush of affection well up in his chest. Grinning in response, he bounced himself off the bed, tugging Sirius along with him.

\--

Sirius went on writing Remus letters as if nothing had changed (because, honestly, nothing really had,) deciding that it would be a topic better broached in person. The three boys checked the lunar calendar, seeing that the full moon would fall just before they began Christmas holiday. Sirius wrote a letter to Remus asking to meet up after Christmas, and he received an enthusiastic agreement. 

Unfortunately, looking forward to holidays with so much pent-up anticipation had some unforeseen consequences, as James and Peter found themselves in detention with Sirius every few nights. Though it started innocently enough with discreet discussions in the library about the struggles a Muggle must face being a werewolf, Sirius landed his first detention since Halloween being caught sleeping in the Restricted section with three restricted books as his pillow. He had later replaced Professor Kettleburn’s wand with a joke wand during a class on fire crabs and sent the man to the hospital wing with a few angry burns on his ankles. He’d caught many of the Hogwarts ghosts in a miniature tornado he’d whipped up in the Great Hall, which ended up catching a few helpless owls as well, and he’d flung Snape into the lake with a poorly performed Levitation Charm, to which the furious Slytherin had responded by Summoning the unexpecting Sirius, landing them both in freezing cold water.

And so it happened that Sirius had a bit of a cold when he finally made it home for the Christmas holidays. 

“Why didn’t you go to Madame Pomfrey?” Mrs. Potter demanded, pressing her hands against Sirius’s forehead. “The apothecary is closed, and it’ll take a day to brew a Pepper-Up Potion,” she lamented.

“I’m fine, Mum,” Sirius protested, though he sounded slightly congested. “The Mandrake root gives me funny dreams.” She turned a severe eye onto him, and he added, “But if you think it’s best, I’ll take it.”

She sighed. “Oh, Sirius. Just take it easy, please?”

\--

Though Christmas at the Potters was always magical and joyous, Sirius found himself hurrying it along, until finally he was back at his flat, James sprawled on his sofa, waiting by the door like… well, like a pet dog. “Feels excellent finally being able to do magic outside of school,” Sirius remarked, a cheeky grin curling his lips.

“It’s completely unfair your birthday is so early. Old man,” James yawned, tucking his hands into the sleeves of the sweater and squirming deeper into the cushions. “‘M sleepy.”

“No one told you to wake up at 7.” Sirius shot him a quick glare before looking back at the door, turning into a huge black dog. James rolled his eyes.

“Can you smell him, Padfoot?” he asked wryly.

A second later, Sirius was upright and bouncing in place. “I can,” he confirmed, throwing open the door to see a startled Remus still a few paces down the sidewalk.

Sirius practically flew through the doorway, seizing Remus in a hug amidst surprised laughter. “Sirius, how did you--” he began, but gave up, shaking his head as he threw his arms around the shorter boy. The sight of him flooded Remus with joy and a touch of awe, having been months since he last saw those smoke grey eyes outlined with long, dark lashes, his high, graceful cheekbones flushed with pink, with soft, glossy black hair tumbling around his face. “You cut your hair,” he managed to comment, finding his voice a pitch higher than normal.

“A little bit,” Sirius agreed before pressing a quick kiss to Remus’s cheek and pulling him the rest of the way to the flat.

Remus shuddered a bit once he made it over the threshold, relieved to be out of the bitter wind. He unwrapped the orange knit scarf from around his neck, depositing it onto the kitchen table along with his coat before settling in on the small spot of sofa James had cleared for him.

“Good to see you, Remus,” the wild-haired boy greeted, a broad smile on his face. “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, you two,” he replied. “I'm sorry I didn't bring your gifts; I left them at the house…”

Surprisingly, James reddened. “You got me a gift? Aww, Remus, you didn't have to,” he gushed, and Sirius pointedly rolled his eyes, sitting on the armrest right beside Remus. A grin snuck onto James’s face before fading into a more serious expression. “I actually have a gift for you, too,” he admitted, “but it’s at my house. We wanted to talk about something first.” A pallor crept over Remus, noticeable because he was already pale. Never one to beat around the bush unless he was talking to Lily Evans, James said, “We realized you’re a werewolf. We thought you should know that you don’t have to hide it from us.” Concern bloomed on his face as Remus went even whiter. He flinched at the uncertain touch from Sirius’s hand on his shoulders, amber eyes hollow and wide, as though the world had dropped out from beneath him. Quickly he coiled into a spring of tension, hands clenching and shoulders hunching, staring harshly at his knees.

“I… guess I should go,” he said, the words sluggish, but James and Sirius both protested immediately.

“You should not go anywhere,” James stated definitively. “You are here with us, your friends. 

“How can you be friends…” Remus began, the words acerbic through gritted teeth. 

“What’s changed?” James demanded. “Since we’ve met you? It’s one night a month.” His tone was perhaps sharper than it should have been, due in part to the fact that he did not relish having another conversation about the morality of werewolves, especially one with the werewolf in question. “Honestly, Remus, it’s just… it’s just a furry little problem. Not a big deal.”

Remus’s eyes finally found James’s, round with surprise, and there was a brief moment in which he processed the words before he began to laugh, the edges of it fraying into hysteria. “Furry little problem?” he repeated when he’d calmed down a little. James shrugged good-naturedly. 

“That’s all it really is.” He glanced over at the clock at frowned. “Look, I’ve gotta go. Mum’s been getting weepy about me not spending any time with her over holiday, and she wants to go shopping.” He pressed the palm of his hand against Remus’s cheek, a gesture that startled the boy with its tenderness, his face heating. “Happy Christmas again, Remus. I’ll bring your gift next time, and now you and Sirius can have some alone time.” He winked before getting up, giving Sirius a goodbye kiss on the temple, and waving as he swept out the door.

“He’s getting awfully handsy with you,” Sirius remarked without jealousy, sliding down onto the cushion beside Remus, their sides in complete contact. Remus remained silent, and a soft exhale fell from Sirius. “He’s right, you know. Everything he said. Nothing has changed. You’re the same Remus I met at the shop last year.” He smiled softly, though it faded as Remus began to shake his head.

“You don’t know.” The words were quiet, barely above a history, but weighted with so much anguish that Sirius felt it physically in his stomach, twisting with pain. “You don’t understand what I become. What I am. Not really.”

Sirius leaned into him. “I do. I know you don’t think I do, but I really do. And…” Shame stained his cheeks red and brought a bitter cast to his face. “And at first I reacted just how you’d expect, and I’m sorry. James had to talk sense into me, and I’m sorry he had to. I should be the one standing up for you, not the one you have to be defended from.” His voice trembled, but he kept his composure, seeking Remus’s gaze without flinching. “I know you’re a werewolf, but you’re not  _ just _ a werewolf. You’re Remus, my Remus, who eats brownies in one bite and tries to shop for scarves in July.”

The boy flushed at the sincerity in his voice, mirrored in the intensity of his eyes, struggling to keep the tears burning behind his eyes from falling. “Sirius…”

“Your opinion of yourself doesn’t affect how I feel about you, aside from making me want to change it. I know you’re not a monster. Looking at you, I see the same Remus I’ve always seen, and I want to kiss you about as badly as I have every time I’ve looked at you.”

When Sirius closed the distance between them, lips desperately seeking each other, Remus lost the last threads of his control, fingers wrapping themselves into the front of Sirius’s shirt as his tears fell. As they drew apart, Sirius brushed away the tears with the pad of his thumb.

“This doesn’t feel real,” Remus hiccupped, an embarrassed smile curling at the corner of his lips. “How long have you known?”

“Peter figured it out, noticed you were sick every full moon, last month.

Remus swatted him. “And you just kept writing me like nothing was wrong.”

“Nothing  _ was _ wrong!” Sirius protested, wrapping his arms around the now-struggling boy to keep him from more violence. “And it wasn’t exactly the kind of subject I felt comfortable sending off with an ow-- with the mail.”

Remus ceased his struggles, turning to look at Sirius with astonishment.

“Yeah, speaking of, you’d never believe the very enlightening chat I had with Mrs. Potter about how it was possible that you were getting my letters and sending one back within two days, despite being so far away.” Sirius froze. “Apparently, your school has its own air mail service. Why do you lot take the train when there’s a perfectly good airport right at your school? It would cut down the travel time significantly.” There was a note of mischief in his voice that Sirius completely missed in the midst of his panic at trying to come up with an explanation.

“Er, we, that is to say, it’s… The flying is just… The train is more… more of a tradition…” He trailed off as Remus dissolved into gales of laughter, doubling over. “I… Remus, I’m gonna be honest. I’m confused.”

“You… absolute… numpty…” he wheezed, again overcome at the completely hapless expression on Sirius’s face. “I-- Sirius.” It took a few moments to pull himself together before he took Sirius’s face in his hands, breathlessly saying, “It’s virtually impossible for Muggles to survive a werewolf attack. Surely you must have realised I’m a wizard.”

Sirius gaped, mouth moving with nothing coming out.

“I’ve known you were a wizard since summer. To be honest, I feel like I should’ve realised sooner. When James slipped and nearly said ‘Muggle’ I knew. My mum’s a Muggle, but my dad’s from old wizarding blood.” He shrugged, mischief gleaming in his eyes and a slight smirk on his face. “I’ve been taking this piss a little…”

“I…” Sirius looked rather lost. “You…” And then he started laughing, overwhelmed with mirth. “You knew! You knew I had no clue about all those Muggle things!”

“Mr. Potter knew I was wizard the second I told him my surname,” Remus informed him with amusement.

“Yes, well, he would. My family only keeps track of the ‘Sacred Twenty Eight,’ and so any purebloods outside that are foreign to me.” Sirius sighed. “I suppose your dad knew my parents?”

“He said he knew your dad in school,” he acknowledged. “Didn’t really get on with each other, though.”

“No one gets on with my dad,” Sirius grumbled. “Not even my mum. They only married to ‘keep the blood pure.’” He rolled his eyes dramatically, making it clear how ridiculous he found the idea. He lapsed into a moment of quiet contemplation, mind spinning. “Hey, let me get your gift,” he said finally, leaping to his feet and hurrying to his bedroom. He took a breath once he was alone, thinking that since Remus was a wizard presumably familiar with wizarding laws, it was probably best to save the whole illegal Animagi thing for another time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, it’s been forever, and I’ve forgotten how to write. Half this chapter is clunky awkwardness. Please forgive me! m(__)m It’s summer break now, but I’ll still probably be busy with jobs, so thank you so much to the readers sticking through this with me!   
> I’m also working under the assumption that since Remus is homeschooled, he doesn’t get in trouble for using magic at home. And since the Potter parents are magical (and doting parents) the Ministry can’t tell when the kids use magic there either.

James leapt to his feet as Remus fell out of his grate, followed by an incoherently babbling Sirius.

“Mate, what…?” he asked, alarmed and perplexed as Sirius continued to rave wildly, flailing his wand to haphazardly return all the ash to the fireplace.

“The map, Prongs, the map, he can do the charm! Show him, Remus…”

Colour flooded the boy’s pale cheeks, and James took in with amusement his tousled curls and discomfited stance. He held up a piece of parchment displaying a map of the shop where Sirius had worked. Three dots moved around it, respectively labelled “Kelly Smith,” “William Lambert,” and “Claire Burgess.” James inhaled sharply, seizing the parchment from Remus’s hands and ogling it critically. His shocked hazel gaze slid up to Sirius, who was grinning excitedly, practically vibrating with happiness. Wordlessly, James grabbed Remus by the arm and led the way to his bedroom, where he began digging in his trunk, throwing his Invisibility Cloak on the bed and pulling out the blank piece of parchment at the bottom.

“Remus,” he said gravely, “I am about to show you our legacy, the culmination of our education. And if you’re willing, you will be the one to complete it, thereby forever affixing your name beside ours.” He paused, then looked at Sirius. “Get Wormtail.” With a grin, Sirius vanished with a loud  _ crack _ .

“He got his Apparition licence already?” Remus asked drily. “Didn’t waste any time.”

James shrugged. “He’s been able to do it for a while, so all he had to do was wait for his birthday to take the test.” He stood up and closed the door with a  _ click,  _ then jumped as Sirius reappeared with a nauseous-looking Peter on his arm.

“Marauders,” James addressed them, expression solemn. “We’re taking a vote to make Remus officially one of us. All in favour, raise your hands.”

All three hands went up, and Remus flushed, his lips quirked into a half-confused, half-flattered smile. 

James continued. “Remus, you have been accepted into the Marauders, the prestigious pranksters of Hogwarts. You need a nickname.”

“Whitefang,” Peter suggested.

“Grizzle.”

“Hackles.”

“Tideclaw.”

“Mensem.”

“Eyetooth.”

“Mooneye.”

“Moony.”

Ignoring Remus’s drawn out eyeroll, the three boys fell silent after Sirius’s last suggestion.

“Moony,” James breathed, then turned to face Remus. “What do you think? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.”

Though Remus was ready to say how ridiculous this all was, the words caught in his chest. Somehow, it sounded so  _ right _ . “Moony,” he said instead, pensively. “Yeah. I like it.”

“Okay, Wormtail, Moony is going to complete our map.” James smiled broadly, handing Sirius the map with a flourish.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Sirius intoned, tapping the map with his wand, and Remus watched with wide eyes as black lines unfurled over the parchment, revealing an immensely intricate map of what he knew was Hogwarts castle and grounds. 

“We’ve been casting our own version of Homenum Revelio whenever we use it,” Peter explained, “but it has its flaws.”

Carefully, Remus took the map from Sirius, examining it carefully with a knot in his stomach as he took in the details of corridors and classrooms. 

 

It took the rest of the evening for the boys to finally complete the map, adding a few embellishments to Remus’s charm, but they were all breathless with mingled pride and shared exuberance as they looked at the still-shining black script at the top: “Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,” and the black dots that moved throughout. Professor Dumbledore was in his office, while Professor Slughorn was in the kitchens. Students milled about in their common rooms, in the Great Hall, and on the grounds. Hagrid seemed to be at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

James actually had tears in his eyes. “Look,” he said, voice hoarse, his hand resting on the parchment. “Minnie is in the library.” Sirius sighed reverently.

“Moony, you’re a genius,” Peter gushed, and Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You three did most of the work,” he demurred modestly. “I can't even fathom how complex the spell work on this map is.”

“Pretty complex,” remarked James with a self-satisfied smirk. 

Remus’s mobile began to ring, and he blanched when he looked at it. “It's late,” he explained nervously, hitting the Accept button and bringing it to his ear. “Hey, Mum, I'm so sorry. Time just got away from me--” He flushed, noticing James and Sirius looking at him with open awe on their faces, their eyes locked on the phone. “Yeah, I'm at James’s.” He exchanged a knowing look with Peter. “Oh.” He reeled his focus back in. “Oh. Sure. James,” he said, looking up at the brown skinned boy. “Do you… would it be any trouble if I spent the night?” 

The other Marauders all burst into speech, talking over each other, but each of them had a huge smile on their face, and James was nodding, so Remus said, “He says it's fine, Mum. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you. Bye.” He ended the call and smiled sheepishly at the still chattering boys. 

“We sometimes tend to all fall asleep in one bed,” James said to Remus with a fleeting grin, his voice floating beneath Sirius and Peter talking over each other. “Is that alright, or would you feel more comfortable if we all slept separate? Sirius can probably--”

“No, it’s fine, I think it’ll be fun,” Remus interrupted, delight bright in his eyes.

And so that night, Remus fell asleep in a muddle of limbs on James’s bed, head resting on Peter’s chest, his fingers laced through Sirius’s.

 

The holiday week sped by far too quickly for Remus’s liking, though Sirius had spent the majority of it at his house, tinkering with the motorbike, learning about video games, and impressing Hope with conjured bouquets that turned into clouds of glimmering stars, or flocks of small, brightly coloured birds. Remus actually woke up one morning to three tiny chaffinches singing loudly on his dresser, and with a sigh, he quickly dressed himself and hurried downstairs, where, of course, Sirius was sitting on the countertop, idly conversing with Hope as she made waffles.

“Did you forget to Vanish the birds?” Remus asked, tone half-stern, half-amused. Sirius winked at him as he slid down off the countertop. 

“I thought the bird song would be more pleasant than your alarm clock,” he explained smoothly, planting a brief kiss on Remus’s chin. “Your mum owled me an invite for breakfast.”

“Mum owled?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow, and Hope tutted.

“I know how to use owl post,” she protested, flipping the waffle maker. “I just don’t often get the occasion to.” The shadow of mischief flickered in her eyes. “How do you think I stayed in contact with your dad when we started dating? I also liked to send owls to my mum after Lyall and I got married. Gave her a bit of a start from time to time.” 

Sirius looked at her with open admiration as Remus chuckled, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Dad says I get my sense of humour from Mum,” he remarked, tugging Sirius down to sit on his lap. Breakfast was ready in just a few minutes, perfectly cooked waffles and fried eggs accompanied by green tea, and Sirius made appreciative noises as he scarfed it all down, even matching Remus’s fast pace, though Sirius took his time sipping his tea, rather than draining it in a few somewhat uncivilized gulps. 

“Peter wants to go shopping today in Diagon Alley,” Sirius mentioned casually, a hesitant smile lingering over his teacup. “Would you be able to join us?”

Hesitation shadowed Remus’s expression as he mulled it over, but Hope answered for him. “Of course he can go.” Her tone was decisive. “Remus, you go have a good time with your friends. I’ll tell your father you’re excused from lessons today.” A sly grin curled her lips as she took their empty plates from them and put them in the sink. “Go on, now; get ready.”

 

Two hours later, the Marauders were striding down the cobblestones of Diagon Alley, breathless with laughter that curled as fog in front of their faces. Peter was holding a bag from the apothecary, having replenished some of his Potions ingredients, and they were heading back to introduce Remus to a Marauders-style trip to Gambol and Japes.

Abruptly, James froze and ran a hand through his hair, the self-confidence draining from his body like water only to be replaced by nervous energy, hazel eyes wide behind his glasses. Remus stared at him in alarm, but Sirius merely sighed, nudging him and nodding towards the girl who had just come out of Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlour. “Evans,” he murmured, a lilt of amusement to his voice, and understanding dawned over Remus.

She was accompanied by another, possibly the prettiest girl Remus had ever seen in his life, with fine blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in gentle waves and striking red lipstick emphasizing the pout of her full lips. They immediately caught sight of the Marauders, and the blonde rolled her eyes pointedly. “Merlin, they’re multiplying,” she said in a long-suffering voice, but James acted as though he hadn’t heard her as he grabbed Remus and led him over to the girls.

“Evans. McKinnon. This is Remus Lupin.”

Flustered, but getting more and more used to the Marauders’ spontaneity, Remus smiled, saying, “Pleased to meet you.” McKinnon stared him down balefully for a brief moment, then a mirroring smile swept over her face, and she dropped into a playful curtsy.

“Marlene McKinnon. You have a sweeter face than this lot.” Evans laughed.

“She’s right. I’m Lily Evans. Nice to meet you as well.” Her sharp green gaze turned critical. “You don’t go to Hogwarts, do you?”

“No, I’m home schooled.”

Marlene’s dark lashes fluttered down to veil her eyes as she took Remus’s hand. “How charming! Home schooled wizards have such a different perspective. Lily and I about to floo back to Birmingham for a cuppa. Would you care to join us?”

Sirius spluttered indignantly, but Remus merely smiled gently and withdrew his hand. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m kind of on a date.”

“With all three of them?” Marlene asked dryly, and Lily snorted.

“Would that be at all surprising?” she remarked, grinning at her friend’s resigned headshake. “Some other time, then,” Lily added to Remus with genuine warmth, to both James and Sirius’s consternation, before the two girls strode away, chatting quietly.

“She was so… so  _ nice _ to you,” Sirius said, voice thick with disbelief as Peter nodded his agreement.

“Evans is a very nice person,” James declared, looking somewhat affronted that Sirius would insinuate otherwise, and scowled as Sirius snorted derisively.

“She did seem nice,” remarked Remus. “Marlene, too, in her own way.”

“You just think that because she’s pretty. No, don’t try to protest; it’s just a fact. She has that effect on people,” Sirius muttered, and Remus’s gaze turned speculative.

“They were a thing,” Peter offered helpfully, “Sirius and Marlene. For about a week in fifth year.”

Remus took a moment to process this, and nervously, Sirius took his hand, reassured when Remus gave it a gentle squeeze. “Come on,” he said brightly, amber eyes soft, smiling at his friends, “let’s get going before Gambol and Japes closes.”

 

When they left Diagon Alley, Remus received a text from his mum inviting all the boys to dinner. Peter and James went home to deposit their purchases and change clothes, and Remus and Sirius went straight to the Lupins’, where Sirius enthusiastically helped Hope finish up dinner, much to her delight.

“You are a gift in the kitchen, dear. Are you sure you have to go back to school?” she teased as Sirius expertly sauteed the vegetables.

“I’ll be thinking of you every second I’m away,” he replied with a wink, smiling at Remus as Hope giggled.

The Marauders all at a dinner table was quite a sight, even with all four of them on their best (well, sort of) behaviour. It was as though a thread of thought started by one of them was immediately picked up by all of them, stringing together sentences and completing each others’ jokes as if they were of a single mind.

She would never tire of seeing her son laughing and joking with his friends, and she even noticed a rare softness on Lyall’s face as he sat back during dinner and watched Remus. So when, after dinner, Remus asked her quietly if he could please spend the night at Sirius’s, she enthusiastically agreed. “I don’t have to remind you--” she began, and Remus instantly turned beet red, knowing exactly where her mind was going.

“No. You most certainly do not have to remind me,” he interrupted stolidly. “I am just sleeping over. That’s all it is.”

“If you say so, honey,” she said warmly. “Have fun, then. Be home by noon, okay?”

 

Still, Remus was somehow nervous that night when Sirius turned off the telly and murmured sleepily, “Ready for bed?” They were already in pyjamas, empty tea mugs magically washed and put away, drowsy in the dim light. Remus nodded into Sirius’s chest, and they got up, walked to the bedroom, and fell unceremoniously into bed. It took an entire minute for Sirius to reach over, groping lazily for Remus’s shoulder, then sighing contentedly as he wrapped the startled boy in his arms. “Goodnight, Moony,” he murmured peacefully, and Remus smiled, relaxing into the embrace.

“Goodnight, Padfoot.” He couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep right away with Sirius’s warm breath blooming on his neck, stray strands of soft black hair whispering against his cheeks, wanting to make this moment stretch on into infinity.

Sirius’s breathing had settled into an easy rhythm long before Remus felt sleep reaching for him. “I love you, Sirius,” he breathed to the dreaming boy, closing his eyes and surrendering.

 

Angry snarling startled him awake as early morning light shone softly in from the window. “Wha…?” He blinked his eyes open as the adrenaline built up in his system, and he found himself eye to teeth with a fanged green disk. Instinctively, he flung himself backwards, away from the furious growls and into Sirius.

“Merlin’s teeth, Moony,” he groaned, then opened his eyes and let out a strangled yell, nearly falling out of bed as he threw himself over the very confused Remus to seize the frisbee. “I’ll kill Prongs for leaving this stupid thing here; if it wrecked the furniture, I swear…” He continued to mutter murderously to himself as he grabbed his wand and contemptuously Vanished the disk. Harrumphing grumpily, he set the wand back on his bedside table and flopped back into bed, snuggling up to the now laughing boy tangled in his sheets.

“It’s not funny,” Sirius whined. “It’s seven in the morning. I  _ told _ Prongs no Fanged Frisbees in my flat, but does he ever listen?”

Remus pulled him into a comforting embrace, his laughter subsiding. “Don’t worry. If it ate any of the furniture, I’m sure you’ve sufficient Charms skill to mend it.” This did not stop the grumbling, however, so Remus impulsively pressed their lips together, startling the irritation out of him. Remus felt the tension drain from the dark haired boy like water, and Sirius meshed his fingers into tousled brown waves, pulling them closer together, lips opening and tongues meeting, revelling in the warmth of each other. Sirius shifted so that Remus was on top of him, the warm solidity of his body preferable to any blanket. Their deep kiss scattered into a shower of smaller kisses, until Sirius was laughing, eyes shining and cheeks flushed, and the smile on Remus’s face was brighter than the sunlight.

“Good morning,” Sirius greeted happily, brushing the tips of their noses together.

“Good morning,” Remus replied, and he planted an enthusiastic kiss on Sirius’s forehead.

With startling dexterity, Sirius flipped them over, breathed a quiet kiss onto Remus’s neck, then bounced out of bed. “I’m making you breakfast,” he announced, a distinct note of giddiness in his voice, and fled to the kitchen. By the time Remus had evened out his breathing, gotten up and followed him, already the smell of cooking breakfast meats floated through the flat, and Sirius was dancing light-footed around the small kitchen, the coffeemaker gurgling and the pan sizzling. Remus sat down at the table, watching appreciatively as Sirius put together a full English quicker than he’d ever seen. Within minutes, breakfast was on the table, each of them had a steaming mug of coffee and a glass of orange juice, and Sirius was grinning widely, clearly proud of himself. It was delicious, as Remus figured it would be, but he may have been just a little distracted by the coquettish glances and smiles Sirius kept flashing him.

Finally, having eaten all his food, Remus sat back, full and content as Sirius cleaned the kitchen with a lazy wave of his wand. “Mum did want me home before noon,” he said ruefully, wrapping his arms around the slender body suddenly settling on his lap. “I… I know you’re going back tomorrow. Can I… Do you mind if I see you off at the station?”

“Why would I mind?” Sirius demanded, though a grin flickered at the corner of his lips, and there was a teasing glint in his eye. “I would give anything for a chance to show you off.” He leaned in and traced the edge of Remus’s ear with his tongue, provoking a shudder and a stifled gasp. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to, but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”

Remus snorted, pulling Sirius’s hair free from the bun it had been placed in during breakfast, combing gently through it with his fingers. “Obligated… Honestly, Padfoot, I’d spend every moment with you if I could.” His face reddened, gaze focused stubbornly on shining black locks, and he plowed on. “You’re the first person to stick around after finding out what I am, and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.”

“I’d be a pretty shit boyfriend if I left you over that,” he grumbled, eyes closed contentedly, leaning into Remus’s touch. There was a gentle flush on his cheeks as well, and Remus couldn’t help but notice how long his dark lashes were and how his lips formed the perfect pout.

“I’d say that’s an unpopular opinion… Wait, boyfriend?” His fingers paused in their movements, and his eyes snapped to Sirius’s, now wide and shadowed with anxiety. “Are we boyfriends?”

Sirius whispered, “If you want to be,” making no attempt to cover the vulnerability in his voice. He broke into a hesitant grin when Remus laughed.

“I would love to be,” he said, radiant with joy, and kissed his boyfriend.

 

Remus’s parents were slightly underwhelmed by their son’s announcement, Lyall grunting, “I thought you were already boyfriends,” even as Hope laughed and hugged her son. They were hesitant about his trip to King’s Cross the following day, but were reassured with the knowledge that he’d be going with the Potters. 

He had to admit he was a little nervous as he stepped through the barrier, even despite Sirius’s warm hand in his. The scarlet train gleamed before him, and he felt a stab of bitterness that he quickly tamped down with a deep inhale, smiling at the gentle squeeze of his hand.

Sirius had a single suitcase, charmed to hold all his Christmas gifts while still being feather-light, so he didn’t need any assistance getting loaded up onto the train. Instead, he dawdled at the tracks with Remus’s hand in his, trying to commit every shape and every texture to memory before it disappeared from his life for months. “Promise you’ll owl?” he asked softly, bringing Remus’s knuckles to his lips. 

“Of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t owl?” Remus teased.

“No matter what, Moony, you’re the best boyfriend.” He pulled the startled boy closer, so they stood chest to chest, and kissed the corner of his mouth. 

“Oi! Remus Lupin!”

The two boys pulled away alarmed, looking for the source of the melodic voice. Remus saw her first, the gorgeous Marlene McKinnon, waving at him in dark robes emblazoned with Gryffindor’s lion, her red lips curled into a wicked grin. “If you ever get sick of that sod, you owl me, yeah?” she called playfully, laughing at their matching stunned expressions. She blew him a kiss and disappeared onto the train.

Sirius was sputtering like an old car. “Can’t believe the nerve of her,” he growled, glaring in affront at Remus as he started to chuckle.

“If I recall correctly, you’re the one that dated her,” he said pointedly, though his clear amusement robbed his words of any bite. Sirius frowned, rubbing his neck thoughtfully. “Anyway, don’t worry. I won’t be owling her because I would never get tired of you.” 

They shared one last, lingering kiss before Sirius had to get on the train, and the dark-haired boy immediately hurried to a window to wave as the train began to pull away. A chill ran up his spine as he caught a glimpse of austere faces and elegant black robes just before the couple Disapparated, but he shook off the sudden negativity that hovered at the edge of his heart and blew Remus a kiss as the train picked up speed.


End file.
